#He takes my word over his own when determining what we should do about our relationship and what is purpose and worth is to others- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starogeorgina · 5 months

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𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen OC, minor Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen OC

Warnings: Swearing, smut, kidnapping, sexual blackmail, self harm (overall dark themes)

Chapter: 1.01

Blood and cheese.

Fucking blood and cheese.

The destruction that blood and cheese caused would haunt Aemond until the day he died. He never meant for Lucerys to die; he thought at most his nephew would piss his pants and fly off home crying to his mother; instead, he indirectly set off a chain of events that couldn’t be stopped and was responsible for tearing his own family apart.

If Arrax hadn't breathed fire on Vhagar, then Vhagar never would have...

It was his fault.

Deep down, he knew that.

And now Aemond had paid the ultimate price. He took his half sister’s son away from her, and now the blacks have taken his sweet wife and unborn child from him.

Not only was the prince demented with fear of not knowing what had become of his beloved Viola, but his poor sister Helaena was forced to make the worst choice a parent could make and lost her firstborn son, Jaehaerys. He could never bring his nephews back, but perhaps he could still save his wife, if he ever found her. His wife’s dragon Stardust has been circling the keep, squealing loudly while looking for her rider since the day Viola was taken, and whenever the dragon went silent, a fleeting feeling of hope would cross Aemond's mind that perhaps she had returned, but that was never the case.

The prince’s fingers grip the leather arm rest of the chair tightly, and his knuckles turn white as his mind takes him to a dark place. Was someone mistreating his wife? Was she dead? He had been tracking the dates and had determined that his unborn babe should have been born two months ago.

“Prince Aemond.”

He stands when the king's hand approaches him holding an opened scroll in his hand, “grandsire.”

“I believe we know where Princess Viola is.”

“You’ve said that before,” he spits harshly. “And all it did was cause my mother more heartache.”

As soon as the words leave Aemond’s mouth, he regrets them; his comment wasn’t fair. His grandsire cared for them all but had a particular soft spot for his granddaughters. Aemond often had to remind himself that his wife being taken affected the rest of his family as well. His grandsire had used every connection he had to try and find Viola, while his mother had sent ravens to Rhaenyra, begging for her daughter's return.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond says. “Where is she?”

Otto nods, giving him a look of understanding. “Dragonstone.”

“Dragonstone,” he repeats. Could it be that she was so close to home all this time? The last time Aemond thought he had found his wife, he ended up burning Harrenhal to the ground. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

Otto holds up the scroll: “A raven arrived from Prince Jacaerys.”

Believing he’s heard everything he needs to, Aemond goes to leave but is stopped at the door by Ser Criston, who gives him a sympathetic look and pats his shoulder. “There are still things you need to know, my prince.”

—

You stare up at the ceiling, waiting for your uncle to appear. He always comes when the sun disappears and the sky turns black. On cue, the door to the room is unlocked, and your uncle walks in with a strut in his step. One of his hands had a tight grip on the head of his Valyrian steel sword, while the other dangled the key.

Knowing what his intentions were, you pull up your gown, spread your legs wide open, lick two of your fingers before bringing them to your clitoral area, and begin rubbing in a circular motion. This wasn’t about putting a show on for your abductor; you just wanted it to be over quickly. “Your cunt of a brother stole my wife’s crown, sending her into early labor, and your husband killed our Lucerys in cold blood. You are going to rectify those things by replacing what was taken from us.” Since the day the maester cleared you for sex again, your uncle has visited you nightly.

Daemon smirks, “Such an eggar girl, I’m starting to think you enjoy our nightly activities.”

You wondered if Daemon convinced himself that he doesn’t mistreat you so he could sleep better at night and find a way to forgive himself because he knew the gods wouldn’t forgive him for what he was doing to his own kin.

“Don’t stop touching yourself until I say so,” he orders.

You do as he says, thinking of Aemond as you touch yourself.

“Husband.”

Aemond looks up at you with a smile on his face. You’d been searching for him for hours, and you now feel silly for not searching the castle's library first. He often reads late at night before joining you in bed, but because of the stormy weather, you thought your husband might have gone dragon riding.

“You’ve kept me waiting.”

“Oh, I must have lost track of time; my apologies,” he says sincerely. He puts a bookmark in place, then sits the book on the small table beside him.

You walk towards him with a smirk on your lips. “It’s quite alright, my love, but I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“Wha—”

By unfolding your robe and pulling up your sheer nightgown, you grant Aemond complete entry to your glistening cunt. He slides his finger along your folds gently, “so wet already.”

“I warmed myself up while waiting,” you tease.

Aemond kisses over your clothed body while sliding a finger into you, a smile pulling on his lips. “Well, I better not keep you waiting any longer, my dear wife.”

Daemon smacks your hand away, replacing your hand with his, and rubs at your clit until a moan slips from your mouth. He kneeled down and buried his head between your legs, bringing you pleasure with his skilled tongue. You hated yourself for enjoying the feeling of his mouth on you. When your walls start to clench, Daemon abruptly stops and unties his breeches low enough for his cock to spring out. He spits into his hand and strokes himself to complete hardness before sliding into you.

You wince at the stretch. Daemon wasn’t much smaller than your husband, but it always seemed to hurt when he thrust into you.

Perhaps that was deliberate on his part.

It didn’t matter how rough Aemond was with you; he never hurt you. Not once.

—

It doesn’t take Daemon long to reach his peak inside you, filling you with seed. Once he’s caught his breath, he begins to quickly fix his breeches. “You had tears in your eyes.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

He scoffs, “If it’s causing you so much pain, I can have the maesters bring tea; that will help.”

“I don’t want a tea to dry my milk up, uncle; I want to see my babe, Daenys, and feed her myself.”

He shoots you a cold glare and says, “No.”

You practically leap from the bed and press your back against the door, just as he reaches to open it. “Please, Daemon, please. You said I could see my daughter. All I want to know is that she’s safe. Please, please!”

“I said you could see her once you held up your end of the deal.”

When he forcefully pulls the door open, you are forced to move forward to let him by, and your body shakes with anger. “I’ve held up my—”

Daemon grips your face harshly. “The deal was that I would return the Kinslayers babe to you once you're pregnant!”

The single door to the room is slammed shut and locked, and you're all on your own again. Tears fall from your eyes as you move to the bed and curl up in the thin bed sheets. You felt like a fool when Daemon first took you as his prisoner. You sobbed and begged at his feet, promising to do anything it took to stay alive so that your unborn child could survive. And out of all the horrific thoughts that crossed your mind, you did not consider that he would force you into becoming a vessel, with the sole purpose of giving him another heir.

The only person who was kind to you was your nephew, Jacaerys. Sometimes he’d manage to sneak you extra food during the day, but mostly he’d sneak in to see you during the hour of the owl and would bring Daenys with him.

The few hours a night you got to spend with her made everything you suffered seem worth it, but it was never enough. The visits had become less and less, as Jacaerys was terrified of Daemon finding out. Your nephew promised he’d find a way to free you, but day by day, your hope of ever making it off Dragonstone was fading.

—

Aemond squeezes the sapphire necklace that he had made from his wife moons ago. It was his intention to give it to her on her birthday, but he never got the chance. Her eyes would light up whenever she got excited, and he imagined how they would look when she received her gift. He knew his wife would appreciate the sapphire carved into the shape of a heart. The sharp point of the bottom of the heart digs into his palm; the sting of it is the only thing that reminds the prince he is alive as he listens to his grandsire talk about his beloved.

“It seems Rhaenyra has slowly descended into madness, leaving the island under the charge of prince Daemon, who has deemed princess Viola his new— whore.” The pain and disgust in Otto’s voice was clear as he spoke of his granddaughter's fate. “Jacaerys states Viola has given birth to a healthy baby not long after she was taken, a girl.”

Aemond struggles to breathe as all the air is sucked from his lungs again. He had a daughter, a baby girl. Tears threatened to spill from his eye, but he squeezed the necklace harder to stop that from happening. It’s not until Aemond feels a warm liquid falling from his hand that he realizes he had held onto too tightly, and now he is bleeding.

Ser Criston notices but doesn’t draw attention to it; the knight clears his throat. “What does the bastard want in return?”

“For his mother's life to be spared,” Otto replies. “He even says he’d bend the knee if it meant saving her.”

“It could be a trick.”

“No,” Alicent says. “I don’t believe he would gamble on his mother's life. Rhaenyra’s sons love her; this we cannot deny.”

“Mother, I didn’t hear you come in.” Aemond's chest tightens with guilt when he spots the tears in his mother's eyes. “You shouldn’t listen to the details; it will only upset you.”

“Oh, my boy,” Alicent strokes his cheek, “we will get her back, the both of them. This I promise.”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen/you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #daemon targaryen smut #Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x you #daemon targaryen/you #Aemond Targaryen x oc #Aemond Targaryen x female oc #Aemond Targaryen/oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x fem oc #daemon targaryen/oc

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lani-heart · 3 months

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|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> sports day is coming but Sooha isn't any closer to befriending the witch and Niki and Sunghoon seem to be further from their soulmate accepting them anytime soon...

y/n's perspective

The school has opened many things. Last week's announcements were a success, the complaint box was questionable but the school mandated it, and field day was the most looked forward to event which was finally approved.

“Okay, with all these rules, there will be different pairings. The school will randomize the students and equalize the number of students from each school in the different groups” I explained.

“Student council will not be a part of field day, besides the select few who asked for the waiver at the beginning of the week,” Wonyoung said and it was made so student council students didn’t cheat or rig an event.

“So have your planned assignments ready, i’ll review them when you’re done” Wonyoung announced and they nodded.

“y/n, do you know if students are banned from events, yet?” EJ asked and I nodded. “These are the files of each school’s banned list, this is because of powers, suspensions, etcetera. If they’d like to waiver it they need to request a meeting with the counselors” I explained and they nodded.

“If you have any questions please ask an event planner” I said as everyone started leaving or planning. I was gonna leave when I was about to run into Niki… I had to be more careful.

“I wanted to know why my waiver wasn’t approved?” he asked and I sighed.

“Your powers–" "I know, but I really wanted to participate,'' he begged and I sighed seeing how badly he wanted to participate. “I don’t think you can, I'm sorry Niki, '' I apologize. I came to realize he was very athletic and must've looked forward to this. “I just don’t want to be standing around doing nothing” he confessed and I nodded.

“Do you want to be an instructor? You’d be able to determine who wins and how to do things correctly? I was gonna ask K but if–" "Could I?!” he yelled and soon bowed, apologizing for his outburst. It was cute.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll write you up for it, okay?” I asked and he nodded happily.

“Thank you!” he said and I smiled at the energetic boy. He didn’t talk to me often but I knew he was my other soulmate. He didn’t really show skinship with Sooha, I noticed that. She’s mainly ever like that with the oldest ones in their group… and sometimes Jungwon but it got better.

“Are you sure giving him so much power is okay?” I heard Sunoo. “He’ll be fine,” I said and he chuckled. “Sure… and when he purposely makes his favorites win, it'll be on you, miss president” he teased.

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna overthrow me?” I asked and he laughed. “Maybe I should,” he said, and before we could say more I heard a gag. “Seriously in public?” I heard and I laughed. “Eunchae?” I asked and she smiled. “Dinner… with the girls, come on,” she said as she dragged me away.

“Wonnie!!” fun fact… Jungwon and Wonyoung hated each other. Mainly because they share the same nickname.

“Wonyoung!” Eunchae corrected and Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Take that leech! Your own girlfriend chooses me over you!” she taunted and he glared at the girl.

“Sure Wonyoung” he said in a monotone tired voice and she scoffed.

“Hmph, let's go!”

niki’s perspective

y/n was always with Jungwon and Sunoo… or with her friends.

I didn’t know how to approach her and recently I've been helping with cheering up Sunghoon… he's slowly becoming a corpse.

But he hasn’t tried gaining her attention, instead leaving the situation alone.

“Niki, take it easy with her! Don’t overwhelm her!” Sunoo scolded Jungwon by his side also.

“Boys!” I heard as I saw Sooha happily yell at us from our regular table. “What happened today?” Heeseung asked. Since he’s vice president he wasn’t in the meeting today since it was mainly to plan.

“Event planning for the sports day. We were going over regulations” Jungwon explained.

“Who should we look out for?” Jay asked and I laughed. We were definitely more competitive so we needed to win for the Decelis

“Well the Riverfield council is gonna be a threat… the humans I have really no idea, but witches play dirty” Sunoo explained.

“Dirty? That’s unfair then!” Sooha said and for a second I realized Sunghoon was still in the same state…

It’s been a week and yet he’s still badly coping… “Witches are granted to use their powers in some of the games, Sooha” Sunoo said. “Ooh! Is y/n playing?!” She asked and I shook my head.

“Why not?” she soon asked me with a pout… she’s been wanting to play with y/n ever since sports day was announced.

“Her powers aren’t suitable to be playing, because of her specializing in blood magic, being around vampires isn’t a good idea” I explained and she nodded.

“She’ll be watching only,” Jungwon said and I soon felt Sunoo judging me. “Oh and I’m not allowed to play” I said and they looked at me confused.

“What!? I thought y/n was gonna get it fixed for you!” Jay said and I shook my head.

“I can’t play since it’ll be unfair with my powers but I’ll be an instructor!” I said proudly and they didn’t look happy…

“So you’re gonna cheat?” Heeseung asked and I punched him.

“I would never!”

“I want to join the student council!” I heard and honestly, I was shocked… “W-what?” Jungwon stuttered and she smiled softly. “Well… Wonyoung told me recently that I can’t be in the meetings since I'm not a student–""Why is it any of her business?” Jake said annoyed at the mention of a witch.

Recently… especially with Sunghoon getting rejected, he has been very annoyed with Bright Sun… “Huh… Well, she’s right. Besides, I see this as getting y/n to be friends–""Sooha, let it go already. She’s a bitch to you, she rejected Sunghoon… just stop wanting to be friends with her” Jake said and I saw Jungwon glare at our hyung…

“Jake… shut up!” Sunoo said and he scoffed.

“Why should I? You really can’t see how rude she is? To Sooha… and look at Sunghoon!” Jake argued and he only shook his head… “She has every reason to hate us… she didn’t accept Jungwon at first either” Sunghoon defended and Jake scoffed.

“Jake stop–” “Not you too Heeseung” he interrupted and the oldest sighed… he couldn’t have a say in it… but I had a bad feeling about how Jake was acting.

“I need air”

jake’s perspective

Everything was better before the merge, before meeting y/n, before meeting Riverfrield… y/n wasn’t Sooha, she was my soulmate but Sooha would always be more to me than the little witch would.

I walked with no destination… So why was I here?

“Oh… hello?” she said and I felt annoyed at seeing her. “Stay away from Sooha” I warned and she looked shocked but shrugged. “You should tell her that,” she said indifferently and I scoffed.

“What are you trying to say? You are nothing but mean to her!” I yelled and she looked confused… “I’ve never once been mean to her! I have every right to but I don’t” she said and I laughed.

“It's not my fault hyung loves her more than you, that I do her more than you,” I said and I saw her flinch a little until scoffing.

“Gonna pull a Heeseung and reject me too?” she asked and I got closer… I grabbed the collar of her uniform tightly as I made sure to look her in the eyes.

I felt the tingles you would at touching your soulmate… but I wouldn’t let that blind me.

“I’m rejecting you… you’re nothing but a servant of nature. And if you don’t stay away from Sooha or the rest of us will make your life a living hell” I said and her face contorted with fear… it was better this way… so why did I smell burning?

“y/n!” I heard as I let her go and I saw one of her roommates… I then looked back at y/n who was on the floor now shuffling away from me… I saw the burnt clothes and even some of her skin?

Did I lose control again?

“Hyung!” I heard as I saw Niki… he looked at what the room was.

It looked bad…

y/n was on the floor… she was crying and whimpering, burns hurt. I know that's because I’ve accidentally done it to people like I did with her.

“y/n are you–” “No… stay over there” she said and I saw Niki’s face fall, like he was heartbroken. I was frozen. I heard sobs and coaxing words… I couldn’t stop looking at my hands.

I was suddenly grabbed and taken away. I then felt something hit me in the face.

“You’re dead”

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munson-blurbs · 6 months

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086: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Series

Chapter 001: I Wouldn't Remember Me, Either

Summary: A new patient arrives at the lab unable to recall his past. With a parallel universe seeping into the real world, you've been assigned to pull his memories to the surface, but what you remember threatens everything.

Warnings: dark themes, mostly canon-compliant (Eddie lives), violence, blood, restraint, amnesia, abduction

WC: 3k

Divider credit to @saradika

He awakens with a jolt, heart pounding in his chest. The room is bathed in a fluorescent haze that pinches his retinas and has him squinting as he adjusts to the light after days spent asleep.

“Wh-Where…” His throat is raw, and he coughs up blood, spattering his chin and the top of the hospital gown he’s tied into. He tries to wipe it off, but metal digs into his wrists as he realizes he’s cuffed down. He gives another yank, one handcuff clanging against the gurney’s rail. Pain rips through his torso at his sudden movement, so fierce and intense that his vision blurs. He swallows the bile inching up his esophagus and lays back down in defeat.

A group of men in head-to-toe white surround his bedside within thirty seconds of him waking up, clipboards and charts clutched tightly in their hands. They jot down his vitals that pulse on the nearby monitor, and murmur amongst themselves. One of them must have just come in from a smoke break; the scent of tobacco wafts past 086’s nose and elicits a craving for a pull from a cigarette.

He shakes it off and musters up all of the energy he can to try and make his voice heard. “What’s going on?”

Only one of the men acknowledges his words, turning to him with a blank, stoic expression. “Patient 086,” he addresses him, the heels of his Oxfords clicking against the hard tile, “we are…pleased to have you here with us.” He lets out a singular heh, a pathetic excuse for what passes as laughter.

086’s stomach twists at this; he takes a deep breath that heightens the ache radiating behind his torn flesh.

“Why am I…handcuffed?” he grunts out, teeth digging into his lower lip in a grimace.

The man ignores his question yet again. “You will answer a series of questions before we can determine where to place you.” He glances down at his checklist, pen perched atop the paper, ready to write. “Question one: what is your name?”

A grin appears on 086’s lips, cracking where the thin skin is chapped. “My name? It’s…” He trails off, smile faltering as quickly as it came. “It’s…” No. I have to know it; it’s my goddamn name. He wracks his brain, a throb pulsing against his temples as he struggles to remember the most basic detail about himself.

“Date of birth?”

Days, months, years fly through his head. Maybe April; that seems right. Or is it August? He mouths the word, rolling it over his tongue to see if it brings back a familiar feeling, but it doesn’t sway him in either direction. “I don’t know.”

He can only offer the same response to the questions about his hometown, his parents, his school. Each missed answer draws an amused expression from the man in white, his eyebrows nearly reaching his salt-and-pepper hair when the patient before him fails to recall his own life history.

086 watches as the man nods at one of his colleagues, a short man with a crew cut, who promptly pulls a small key from his pocket. In one swift motion, he unlocks the cuffs, still standing guard in case 086 tries to lash out and attack.

And though 086 feels the urge to fight, to demand answers he should already know, all he can do is bring his left hand to his right wrist. He massages where the handcuff has indented his pale skin, taking note of the three digits etched just below his palm.

086

“Is this…did I…” On the same arm is a small collection of bats; recognition burns in his brain, but he can’t bring forward the memory of why the tattoos are there.

“You already had a host of markings before coming into our care,” Salt-and-Pepper remarks brusquely, “but the numeric identifier is our way of keeping track of patient whereabouts and achievements.”

Confusion furrows 086’s brows and creases his forehead. “My…achievements?”

“Your achievements,” Salt-and-Pepper confirms, his mouth pressed into a straight line. “Once you are healed enough to participate in lessons, we can begin determining what assets you bring to our project.”

“Project?” he repeats dumbly, disorientation morphing into ire at the lack of answers. His fists clench instinctively; the older man’s eyeline flickers towards the slight movement, but he doesn’t order him to be re-cuffed.

The already frigid air chills even more as the man offers a horrible smile. “You have an awful lot of questions, don’t you?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth with another unnerving laugh. “An inquisitive one. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to provide those answers.” He nods at the colleague holding the keys, who promptly slides the handcuff around the patient’s wrist once again, his brief moment of freedom slipping away as quickly as it came.

“After I help with the project…then I can go home?” The patient looks at the men before him, scanning their faces for some inkling of a response. “When can I go home?” he asks more forcefully, body aches be damned.

Salt-and-Pepper crosses his arms over his broad chest. “And where is home, 086?” His voice is soft, but his eyes are steely with malice. “Tell you what: give us your address and we’ll take you there right now.” He waits a beat, smirking with the knowledge that his patient won’t be able to remember. “That’s what I thought.”

He pivots on his heel and walks out the door. The group of men follow him without another word, their footsteps disappearing down the hall.

086 lays back down and breathes a terse exhale of frustration. Tears sting at his eyes as the realization of his state of utter helplessness sinks in. He wants to call out for someone, anyone, to save him, but he can’t think of a single person.

This is Hell, he thinks. Numbness overtakes his body as he begins accepting his defeat. I’ve done something to royally piss off God, and now I’m in Hell.

Fingers from his unchained hand reflexively fly to his scalp, a nervous habit that penetrates the fuzziness coating his sense of self. He’s met with no resistance, no tangles, no snags; his hair had been buzzed down while he was unconscious.

A neuron fires: this isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but something is very wrong. It’s the final straw that sends him hurtling over the edge.

“Goddammit! Let me go! LET ME GO!” He thrashes against the restraints, ignoring the pain ripping through him. A stitch on his abdomen pops with a ping, fresh blood seeping through the thin hospital gown.

Three of the white-clad men rush into the room. One holds down his free hand while another pins his head to the stiff cotton masquerading as a pillow. 086 leans over and bites the nearest man’s wrist until he can taste metal on his tongue, spitting red. The bleeding man holds strong, almost unfazed; it’s clearly not his first time having teeth sunk into his skin.

The third man is Salt-and-Pepper. He stands to 086’s left and plunges a needle into his neck without a moment of hesitation. The syringe’s serum leaves him warm and tingly, eyelids weighed down. “Good night,” the man whispers in sing-song, his malicious chuckle warped as the patient floats into a sedated slumber.

The last thing 086 registers before sleep pulls him back into its embrace is the voice of the man with the now-empty syringe.

“He’ll learn.” A pause. “C’mon, Snell. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Snell. The man who I bit is called Snell.

And then he’s out.

270 days. You’ve been here for 270 days, each one identical to the last. Wake up, attend hours upon hours of training, sleep, repeat. Every morning brings the sinking realization that escape is impossible and freedom is a far-off dream; your new destiny is that of a lab rat. Even the hands of the wall clock have stopped ticking by, their batteries petering out some months ago at exactly 2:17.

If only you’d ignored the phone when it rang that evening. If only you’d run the other way. If only you hadn’t quite literally bumped into Dr. Snell as you’d bolted through the woods, desperate to avoid the evil looming over your ill-fated town. If only–

“055.”

Your head snaps up from your worn copy of Of Mice and Men when Dr. Moseley calls out your identifier—you refuse to consider it your name—from the doorway. He offers a half-smile that has you shriveling inward. Ever since Dr. Brenner’s untimely passing days earlier, Dr. Moseley has been increasing your training, trying to make you the secret weapon that would allow him to step into the late scientist’s shoes.

“Yes, Dr. Moseley.” You force a chipper tone, swallowing your fear and dog-earing your page. You’ve read this book so many times that you could rewrite it from memory, but it serves as your only source of entertainment. It’s rumored that the scientists have access to a small television set, but none of the patients have ever seen it.

He crooks a finger, gnarled with arthritis, to beckon you over. You stand up from your cot while his eyes bore into you, smoothing the nonexistent creases in your hospital gown. The tile floor is frigid against your feet; you have no socks to serve as barriers against it. Every square inch of this place is always cold.

The doctor fixes his posture and peers downward, an assertion of dominance that does not go unnoticed. “Your…expertise is needed.” His nose twitches slightly. “Come.”

You and he both know that he doesn’t even have to tell you to follow him; obedience has been ingrained in you well before you’d been brought to the lab. Before it was the doctors, it was your friends. Before your friends, it was your parents.

A semblance of a smile flutters across his face as you comply with his order. “We have a new patient,” he explains, keeping his volume to a minimum as the two of you make your way down a dimly-lit corridor. “Like you, he was raised on the outside, but there are two major differences between you and him. Number one, he’s not a good listener.” Dr. Moseley chuckles, clammy thumb and forefinger gently perched underneath your chin in a display of affection that leaves you wanting to retch. “I had to sedate him earlier today after an…outburst. And, number two, he cannot recall a thing about his past. Not even his name. That’s where you come in, my dear.”

Another unnecessary statement; besides subservience, your only real use is memory pulling. It’s what you’ve been training for since arriving here last summer.

“We need to know why he was in The Nether, what he did, and anything he may have altered,” he continues. “It’s also highly unlikely that he was alone, and we need to know who else was with him. We can’t have people with this knowledge going unmonitored.” He pauses and makes unwanted, harsh eye contact. “You will find out this information for us so we can ensure everyone’s safety.”

“Of course,” you murmur, nodding your head and casting aside the doubt you harbor over the truthfulness of his words.

Dr. Moseley pushes open the door to the new patient’s room, where Drs. Snell and Cavendish are already awaiting your entrance. You note the beige bandage wrapped around Dr. Snell’s forearm but refrain from asking questions.

“This is 086,” Dr. Moseley reports, gesturing to the gurney where the young man lay sleeping on his side, arm crossed over his face in a makeshift shield. Bits of dried blood still stick to his exposed cheek despite the attempts to clean him up. His chest rises and falls rhythmically; if you didn’t know any better, you would think he was in the midst of a peaceful slumber. But there is no peace here. There never has been.

“Is there anything we do know about him?” The more information you have, the easier it will be to access his memories.

Dr. Cavendish clears his throat. “I was part of the team that rescued him from The Nether,” he ventures hesitantly. “I can allow you into the memory so you will know what to look for.”

You nod, but Dr. Moseley puts out a hand to stop you before you can even begin. “If she does that, will she have the stamina to access 086?” His voice is clipped, not wanting to waste more precious time.

“It’ll just be a moment,” you reassure him. Memory retrieval is much easier when the person brings it to the forefront of their brain; the challenge occurs when memories are tucked away as though being stored for safekeeping.

When Dr. Moseley says nothing, you take a step towards Dr. Cavendish. “Tell me to stop if it hurts at all,” you say, taking his hand in yours. Your eyes meet his steeled blue ones as you pull the ribbon that unravels his thoughts.

The night isn’t pitch-black, but is submerged in a bluish gray that permeates the atmosphere. Thick, tentacle-esque vines snake along the ground, and you—Dr. Cavendish, rather, since you’ve wormed into his perspective and don his skin—carefully avoids stepping on them with Hazmat suited feet.

“I’ve got one!” An urgent voice calls from a distance. “But if he isn’t dead yet, he will be soon.”

Dr. Cavendish spins to face where his colleague stands, striding over to the crumpled body lamely laying in the dirt, surrounded by a flock of dead creatures. The victim is covered in blood; it’s smeared across his face and oozing from punctures along his abdomen. It mats his frizzy hair, tints the ground maroon, and fills the air with the smell of iron.

“I’ll get his legs, you get under his arms.” Dr. Cavendish commands, already bending at the knees and bracing his back to lift the young man. “On the count of three. One, two—”

“That’s enough.”

Two words from Dr. Moseley drag you back to reality. You swipe at the blood that’s gathered under your right nostril and sniff, steadying yourself on the gurney rail. In front of you, Dr. Cavendish massages the bridge of his nose to quell the inevitable headache that follows memory accession.

Your journey was brief, but you’ve gathered sufficient information to delve into 086’s history.

“Okay,” you breathe, grabbing 086’s cuffed hand. This is a much different set-up than you’re accustomed to. For one, there’s no way to make eye contact, not while 086 is asleep. Everything prior to this has just been practice with scientists with the goal of eventually infiltrating the minds of Russian nemeses.

A tattoo peeks out from the patient’s drooping collar, an insect’s spindly legs emerging from a soft tuft of chest hair and fresh scars. There’s a familiarity to the faded ink, but Dr. Moseley does not afford you the luxury of uncovering it.

“055.” His voice is stern. “Please begin.”

Your open eyes find 086’s closed ones as you try to ignore your nagging conscience. This is a person; someone who, as far as anyone knows, has only committed the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Everything within you screams no, that this is a violation, but another brusque throat-clearing catapults you into compliance.

Blue haze. Bat-like creatures. Blood. You grasp onto the image from Cavendish and let yourself into 086’s mind.

You wade through darkness for a bit, hyper focused on finding a resembling memory. Your temples throb as you concentrate on your search. Blue haze. Bat-like creatures. Blood.

Nothing.

Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, you will the wave of remembrance to crash over you. You’re pouring out every ounce of energy you possess, a draining battery, as you stand alone in utter darkness.

Blue haze. Bat-like creatures. Blood.

You latch onto something and pull yourself into it. The visual is hazy, likely because of 086’s own inability to recall it naturally, but you can hear it all.

Unidentifiable screeching objects–possibly the bat-esque monsters you’d seen in Dr. Cavendish’s memory–shriek and thwack against metal in rapid succession just as a scream roars over the clatter. It’s not one of terror, but of vengeance, and you feel your physical self tense up with a rage you didn’t know you held.

“Come on!” bellows 086, the challenge rising up from his diaphragm and rattling his whole body.

The next sounds happen almost simultaneously: fabric tearing, fangs hungrily sinking into flesh, and an unmistakable cry of pain.

You don’t know how much longer you can stand to listen to this man wail in torment as he’s ripped apart, teetering on the brink of death. The cry becomes strangled as though his throat is being compressed, and it allows you to hear a far-away shout, a boy’s voice thick with anguish.

“EDDIE!”

At this one word, you stumble out of the memory and nearly fall to the tile floor. Your breathing becomes shallow as the present infiltrates your psyche, too distraught to keep your nosebleed from snaking down your lips. You’ll be reprimanded for not remaining in the memory longer to identify the mystery boy, but you can’t bring yourself to find it again.

Dr. Moseley catches you by the crook of your elbow, keeping you upright long enough for you to get a better look at 086. His hair is shaved down to the scalp, patchy in places where his curls were particularly knotted and hard to remove. He’s added a few more tattoos to his collection since you’d last seen him almost one year ago, including a swarm of bats trailing up his arm. His fingers are naked without his signature rings; the base of his knuckles are tinged green from the costume jewelry. But it’s him; it’s definitely him.

Patient 086 is Eddie Munson, and for good reason, he absolutely despises you.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #086

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torukmaktoskxawng · 4 months

Text

run away with me

Pairing: Nor/Sarentu!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Avatar Frontiers of Pandora, fluff, angst, mentions of brainwashing and residential school trauma

Taglist: @mooniequeen

A/N: No one has requested me to write for AFoP so I decided to take matters into my own hands *cracks knuckles* Let's get to work.

This is basically my rendition of the cutscene you see when playing the game, after the title card. I made it lean more toward the angsty, romance play that we were robbed of when the game finally came out XD Enjoy!

Part 2

When So'lek told you that Nor had left Resistance HQ to have some time to think, you knew you needed to seek him out.

Using your new abilities and talents to track him down, it didn't shock you when you found Nor on one of the highest cliffs near the base of their new home. You remember he made a comment earlier about how there were more colors on Pandora than he remembered and how he had no names for them. You suspected he'd be all the way out here, admiring those colors and maybe trying to invent new names for them.

He didn't react when you approached the small fire he made, likely expecting you to come find him. He turned to face you with lowered ears and a forlorn look in his eyes, "What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us? Sad to see what we've become?"

"We're still Sarentu."

"Teylan barely speaks our tongue, but then... he always preferred human words."

"Alma says we all need time to adjust."

"Alma is not Na'vi." He growled lowly, turning away to kneel down in front of the fire.

You weren't deterred by his attitude, knowing Nor better than you sometimes knew yourself. He felt things stronger than most. He was passionate about what or how he felt and he wasn't afraid to admit it, hence why he didn't shy away when he proudly proclaimed his feelings toward you. It was years ago now, just the night before Alma snuck you and your friends into cryosleep to wait out the war. All that time you could've been with Nor... lost to cryosleep.

Nor felt the same loss as well, and that is why he wasn't wasting any more time. When neither of you are out on missions, you're with each other, safe at HQ, making up for lost time. Your relationship is technically still new and can easily be chalked up to young love, but Nor didn't see it that way. He claimed that was the way only Sky People saw it, but not the Na'vi. He wanted to do this right, and in his mind, the only right way was the Na'vi way.

So he asked So'lek for advice, on standard Na'vi customs and what the older man might know about the Sarentu ways to court someone. Nor was determined and straightforward about what he wanted to make sure you only got the best treatment. The Na'vi treatment, something that you deserved to have when you were younger but it was taken from you.

That's what you loved about him, growing up beside him. He reminded you so much of your sister at times with their shared determination as kids, though you refused to continue making that comparison after she died... afraid that if Nor acted too much like Aha'ri, then he would die just like her. You couldn't bear to lose him, too, not after everything Mercer and TAP have done to you.

Even now, as you two stood on top of that cliff, you were afraid of losing him, either to death or to life, should life and fate decide to tear you two apart. You wished you could vocalize your fear to him, but you were never as brave or as straightforward as Nor. You were grateful he had approached you about his feelings first, or else neither of you would've ever known.

Although you were not one with words, you were one with actions, and even Nor knew that you communicated with deeds.

Walking up to him, you slide your hand over his shoulder, and while he doesn't say a word, trapped with the demons in his head, he places his own hand on top of yours, a gesture of gratitude. He was thankful for your comfort, knowing that your way of communicating stems from being touch-starved and you would rather voice your thoughts through your actions instead of just saying them because, to you, that means so much more.

You keep your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of his palm bleeding into your skin while you look up and over the cliffside, admiring the scenery with a sad tone in your voice, "Why did the RDA come back?"

"They wanted more of Pandora," he responds with defeat, "They always do."

"Then we'll need to fight," you express with determination, squeezing his shoulder, "Aha'ri would have wanted us to fight."

You try to pull away, but Nor is suddenly too fast. He grasps your hand, gently, and you pause in your movement. He stands to his full height to gaze into your eyes, trying to relay what he's thinking without saying a word. But he wasn't like you. He wasn't good at sharing his thoughts through actions. He was better at it by talking, so that is what he did.

"Or we could run," he suggests and is quick to continue when the expression on your face falls, "Leave this place. Find somewhere else to call home."

"We've talked about this, Nor," you sigh tiredly, recalling not long ago when you, him, Ri'nela and Teylan were all sitting around a fire as Nor suggested they could all run away together. You express the same thing you said back then, too, "Alma brought us here for a reason. She believes in us."

He snarls, though there isn't much heat behind it, "Alma just wants to control us."

Not even you believed what he was saying, lowering your voice to a comforting whisper, "Alma is not Mercer. She actually cares about us as People."

"She left us."

"She thought we were gone."

He steps closer until he's nearly pressed against your chest, his hands sliding up to gently grasp both sides of your face, entwined in your hair. His voice wavered, desperate eyes staring back into yours, "If it were me instead of her, I would've clawed through the rubble of TAP, and I would've looked forever. Un... until I knew for sure if I lost you or not."

You wanted to be touched by the statement, your heart fluttering in your chest while Nor could no doubt feel your heartbeat, pumping through his hands as they rested near both sides of your neck. You shake your head slightly, "That is different. What Alma feels for us is not the same as... as what you feel for me. For all of us."

He shivered, almost proud that you managed to admit your confidence in his feelings toward you. He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in the same air as you while he matches the intimate moment with a whisper, "Exactly. I can't trust Alma with my family. I can only trust myself or you to take care of the four of us, to ensure we stick together."

You wet your lips when they felt dry, deciding to play into his dream for a little bit, "Suppose we did run away... where would we go?"

'Wherever we want! All of us,' he wanted to say the same thing he told Teylan down by the campfire, but he says it differently with you, "Anywhere, far away from here."

"Just the four of us?"

"The four of us," he confirms with a nod, thinking that he had you convinced, "We'll start our own clan. We'll renew the Sarentu."

"And what will happen when the war eventually finds us?"

Your question drives Nor to freeze, and so you continue, "Either Mercer, RDA, or TAP, it won't matter. They'll find us. You know they will."

He unfroze finally, huffing with determination, "Then we will fight."

"But if we fight now, and we win, then we can leave and we will never have to worry about the Sky People again," your hands moved until they were wrapped around Nor's waist, a bold move to match his own, his fingers still wrapped up in the hair on the back of your neck,

"We would never have to keep running or look over our shoulders ever again," you continue, "If we can end this sooner than later, I will go with you. I'll go wherever you want. But... But I can't leave now knowing what the Sky People are capable of. I can't leave knowing that there would be another child out there whose clan was wiped out and I wasn't brave enough to stop it from happening. I would never forgive myself."

Your words stun him into silence, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to feel shy and embarrassed, lowering your head to avoid him until his hands pause your movement. He gently uses his thumbs to push your chin to tilt back up, and when your eyes meet, he pauses for a moment, his intense eyes scanning your expression before his lips twitch up into a small, fond smile, "Heh."

"What?" You tilt your head, hesitant but smiling as well.

"Nothing. It's just... Aha'ri would be proud of you."

He says it so confidently that you know you believe him, and his words make your heart swell with pride and grief, missing your sister. Nor leans back and digs in the pocket of his pants, "I have something for you."

"What is it?"

He provides a carved stone, bearing the mark you both have on your face to signify your long-lost clan, "It's something to remind you of me, whenever you leave HQ and I cannot follow you. It's also a promise."

"What promise?"

"That if I ever leave, it will only be when you are ready to come with me," he leans back into your space, pressing your foreheads together once more as he closes his eyes, taking in your scent, "This time, my love, I go wherever you go."

You clutch the stone in your hand, wanting the carved mark to brand into your skin as you close your eyes as well. You already plan to tie Nor's stone into the songcord So'lek had given you, and you hope that in time, the songcord will grow, and there will be many more milestones to signify. Milestones that you hope that Nor and your friends will share with you, as Sarentu and as your family.

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aeliuss · 14 days

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my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

hey! thank you so much that means so much to me :(( this is my first ever request so i'm excited but also super nervous 👉👈I hope it came out okay!! here ya go <3

warnings!: angst, mentions of anxiety, blood, swearing, arguing, chris is kind of mean, reader gets run over by a car

word count: 2,311

you're bleeding.

you're sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen, knee bouncing absently, nails cutting into your cuticles, blood dripping down your thumb. there's a commotion outside. a loud one, and when you peeked through your window earlier, you saw two of your neighbors arguing loudly.

then you saw chan's car pull up through the window and you pulled the curtain shut abruptly. he should be coming in any minute now. and then you'll tell him what you know. what you know about him and what he'd been doing under the guise of "working."

you will. this time, you will.

when he steps through the door, he doesn't even look at you. just kicks off his shoes, and slides into his home slippers.

his evident fatigue almost softens your resolve. he's exhausted. maybe this could wait till the morning... you begin to think, before you shake yourself out of it. no. no this can't wait. not anymore.

You clear your throat, the sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. chan pauses, finally acknowledging your presence with a faint tilt of his head.

"hey," you start. pause. clear your throat again. "We need to talk."

he glances at you, looking mildly annoyed.. "can it wait? I'm beat."

"it can't." the words surge from your lips before you can chicken out and stop them.

he sighs, turning around to full face you, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "fine. what is it, then? what do you have to say that's so important that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

his demeaning tone is almost enough to get you to change your mind. but you don't.

"do you realize how late it is?"

"yes." his tone is curt.

"okay," you take a breath. count to three. "okay. so you do realize it."

"that's what I said," he says mockingly, sagging against the wall.

you straighten your back, determined not to let his dismissive attitude deter you. "and do you have any explanation for why you're four hours later than you said you would be?"

chan's eyes narrow, a flicker of annoyance passing over his features. "work ran late, okay? it happens."

"it happens," you repeat. "except it always seems to happen to you. only you. and not the other members."

"the other members aren't responsible for keeping deadlines, y/n." he says through hissed teeth, his back straightening with tension. "i'm leader. it falls on me. i thought you knew that."

you can feel the tension crackling in the air, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy between you. you know this conversation could change everything, but you're resolved to see it through.

"I know you're the leader, chan," you reply, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. "but that doesn't mean you have to shoulder everything alone. we're a team, remember?" with your words, youre begging him to take the excuse youre practically throwing at him. but he doesn't. he just scoffs.

"except we're not a team," he says. "youre not with me in the studio, because you know nothing about it."

"chan, that's not fair," you retort, the frustration bubbling up within you. "just because I'm not physically there doesn't mean I'm not supporting you in every other way I can."

"supporting me? is that what you call it? sitting at home, waiting for me to come back at ungodly hours? that's not support, y/n, that's called being clingy."

you feel a sting at his words, but you push past it, refusing to let him deflect the conversation.

"I'm not being clingy, Chan. I'm concerned. Concerned about you and your well-being. This isn't just about work running late. It's about the pattern, the secrecy, the distance between us," you say, your voice steady but laced with emotion.

he latches onto one word. "secrecy? what're you talking about?"

the words lodge in your throat. you don't want to say them. you don't want to say them because if you do, the truth you have been trying so hard to deny will etch itself into the walls of your shared apartment. if you do, there will be no going back, no more pretending that you don't know.

the only sound between you is the sound of a siren outside. the sound of your neighbors arguing. his eyes are dark, intense. they don't waver from yours. waiting for you to speak. you don't think you can.

you speak.

"i know about her."

the fact that he doesn't even ask who makes you feel dizzy.

"she's just a producer," he says. "she works with us."

you shut your eyes, disgust coiling in your chest. "please don't insult me, chris."

chan's expression shifts from annoyance to something unreadable, his eyes darting away from yours for a fleeting moment before returning with a hard edge.

"what are you trying to say?" he asks, his voice quieter now, a dangerous calm settling over him.

her heart is beating so fast in her chest, she is almost sure it will leave a permanent indent. "i'm saying that i know that you asked her out a month before you met me. that you were in love with her for years and that she rejected you."

his fingers curl into fists, and he's gone slightly pale. "who told you?"

"god, chris, that's what you care about? who told me? it doesn't fucking matter who told me!"

his silence is deafening. the anger that had unfurled in your chest goes out as quickly as it had come. it is replaced by desperation. it disgusts you how much you love him, how much you are desperate for him to deny what you are insinuating, desperate for him to hold you and kiss away the tears that had made an appearance on your cheeks and tell you that you are wrong. but he doesn't. he doesn't.

you're still bleeding from picking at your thumb and his silence speaks volumes, filling the room with tension thicker than any words could. you watch as emotions flicker across his face like shadows dancing in the dim light of the kitchen. you want to take back everything you said, to erase the truth that now hangs heavy in the air between you.

but you can't. because you said it. and now it's out there, impossible to retrieve.

"what am i to you?" you finally ask, your voice barely a whisper. but he hears you. he always does. "what am i to you that you can stay all night alone in the studio with a girl you used to love for years and then come home and turn on me like i'm the one that's done something wrong?"

chan's eyes flicker with a myriad of emotions—anger, guilt, frustration. he opens his mouth, then closes it, as if grappling for the right words.

finally he says, "don't do this to me, y/n. not now."

a strangled sound leaves your lips before you can stop it. "to you? to you?"

"yes, to me." he hisses, running a hand through his hair, messing up the curls more than it already was. "you know we have a comeback soon. you know how stressed out i get--"

you interrupt him, unable to bear the weight of his excuses any longer. "don't you dare turn this around on me, bangchan."

he looks at you, eyes hard, but there's panic in them. panic and anguish. "don't call me that. you don't call me that."

"you kissed her!" you shriek suddenly.

he freezes. everything seems to freeze, your fingers and toes are numb. youre still bleeding.

the words hang in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. chan's expression tightens, jaw clenched, eyes darkening with a mix of anger and guilt. he takes a step back, as if physically recoiling from the accusation.

"i..." he starts, but the words catch in his throat. He struggles to find the right response, his mind racing with excuses and denials. but there's no denying the truth in your eyes, in the trembling of your voice. "yeah. i did."

there it is. the blow you've been waiting for all night.

tears threaten to spill over as you struggle to comprehend the magnitude of his confession. every moment you shared with him feels tainted, every word spoken now questioned. you thought you knew him, trusted him, loved him. but now, it feels like you're standing on the precipice of a vast unknown, unsure of where to go from here.

chan's gaze flickers, remorse etched into his features as he takes a hesitant step forward, reaching out a hand as if to console you. but you recoil, the pain too raw, too fresh to bear his touch.

"don't," you whisper, your voice barely above a broken sob. "don't touch me."

"y/n-"

"how could you do this to me?" your voice is broken, sailing of several octaves, shrill, because how could he? "how could you come home and lie to me every single fucking night--"

"y/n, please, just listen-"

"i'm so stupid. so fucking stupid. how could i believe you? all this time i was just a fucking rebound, chris. you never loved me, you--"

"y/n, that's not true. i-i made a mistake, i should have told you, spoken to you. i never should've let it get this far, i should've broken up with you before--"

"you said you loved me." you sob. "you said nothing could come between us, that you would marry me, you said that i was the girl of your dreams--"

"well i woke up!" he screams suddenly, chest heaving. you flinch, back hitting the wall. "i woke up, y/n!"

you stare. you're still crying. still bleeding.

"i woke up and realized i made a mistake," he continues. "i thought i could move on, that i could love you the same way i love her, but i can't. i can't, y/n. i can't and it's killing me." the pain in his voice, his eyes, is raw. "i know that that makes me a fucking cunt but i- i don't know...i'm sorry."

your heart shatters into a million jagged pieces at his words, the pain ripping through you like a violent storm. the truth hits you with a force you hadn't anticipated, leaving you gasping for breath amidst the wreckage of your shattered dreams.

for a moment, the world spins around you, and you struggle to find solid ground. how could everything unravel so swiftly? how could the love you believed in so fervently turn out to be nothing but a cruel illusion?

"i'm sorry," he repeats pathetically. "i do care about you, y/n, i swear--"

"stop," you whisper. "stop lying, chris. enough."

chan's shoulders slump, defeated, as if your words have drained him of all remaining strength. he takes a step back, hands falling limply to his sides.

"i understand if you hate me," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths.

hate him? the thought seems foreign, inconceivable, despite the searing pain that courses through every fiber of your being. how could you hate the person who once meant everything to you? the person whose name used to bring a smile to your lips, whose touch once ignited a fire within your soul?

"i'm leaving," you say and you hate the small, desperate, pathetic part of you that hopes he'll stop you. he doesn't.

"okay," he says.

you stumble towards the door, your vision blurred by tears, your heart aching with a pain you never imagined possible. each step feels like an eternity, each breath a struggle to hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to consume you.

as you reach for the doorknob, your hand trembling, you steal one last glance over your shoulder. chan stands there, his silhouette illuminated by the dim light of the kitchen, his gaze fixed on the floor as if unable to meet your eyes.

for a fleeting moment, you wonder if he'll say something, if he'll beg you to stay, to give him another chance. but the silence stretches on, unbroken, and you realize that there are no words left to say, no apologies that can mend the shattered pieces of your heart.

youre outside before you can even comprehend it. your neighbors are now arguing loudly with the police in the middle, trying to break them up. one of them is struggling to escape into their blue car. it looks violent. it looks like the least of your worries.

the chilly night air hits you like a physical force, causing you to shiver involuntarily as you step out onto the deserted street. the echo of your own footsteps feels like a solemn march, a dirge for the love you thought you had.

you don't know where you're going, only that you need to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of betrayal that hangs heavy in the air around you. your mind is a whirlwind of emotions, each thought a jagged edge that cuts deeper into your wounded heart.

then you hear a car door slam. a loud screech. a shout. your name.

then you are hit by a blue car.

the world spins and there is pain everywhere but you can only focus on the sun that is just now rising. on the red and gold. it's very pretty, you realize. it's very pretty and it might just be the last one you see.

__________

chan swears he loves you. swears it with his whole chest, swears it on the tears that run down his cheeks as he holds your hand, swears it on the sun that is only just rising. swears it until his voice becomes hoarse, raw with his declaration.

he wants to believe that you can hear him. but your laying on the pavement, laying there and bleeding like its the only thing your body knows how to do.

you bleed and bleed and bleed.

#bang chan #straykids #straykids fanfic #chan #chris #angst #bangchan fanfic #bangchan fic #bangchan imagines #bangchan imagine #bang chan angst #bangchan headcanons #straykids angst

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endless-summer-soldier · 11 months

Text

dr. feelgood - chapter two

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

a/n: the response to this fic has been so unexpected and it's honestly amazing! thank you all so much for reading. a lot of this series is based on grey’s anatomy but I’m putting my own spin on it! all the positive feedback is motivating me to write more often so I’m going to try to post new chapters on a somewhat weekly schedule.

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word count: 1.5k

series playlist: here

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

I had to drag myself out of bed the next morning. I was dreading going to the hospital. Mainly because I was nervous to see the hot doctor I’d accidentally slept with. I didn’t know what to say to him. I wasn’t sure if we should talk about it or just pretend like it never happened. And he was so damn coy it was difficult to tell what he was thinking.

Once we were changed into scrubs, we met with Palmer to go through rounds. As we visited each patient, our knowledge was tested on their diagnoses and treatment plans. Palmer would assign an intern to each of the cases to assist with patient treatment and potential surgeries. Once rounds were finished, I was the last intern left and I eyed Palmer inquisitively.

“Y/L/N, you will be working with Dr. Barnes today.”

I felt nervous butterflies in my stomach, “Oh, I just thought I’d be working with one of these patients,” I said, trying to get out of it.

“Nope, Barnes specifically requested you. He’s down in the pit.”

“Got it,” I replied. I trudged to the elevator that would take me down to the ER, wondering how I was going to handle this.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, nurses were scrambling, prepping beds and trauma rooms.

“There’s my intern!” I heard from across the way. “Good morning Y/L/N,” he said, calling me by my last name. While this was common in the medical field, it felt oddly chummy coming from him.

“Hi Dr. Barnes. What do we have today?” I faked a smile.

“Collision in a bicycle race, multiple injuries, a few pretty serious. The ambulance is on the way. Put on one of those gowns and follow me.” I took a yellow disposable gown and donned it over my scrubs, along with a set of surgical gloves. Then I followed Bucky to the back entrance of the ER where the ambulances would arrive.

The two of us stood there for a moment in silence, listening for the wail of sirens that were sure to arrive any minute. There was a chill in the air which gave me shivers and ultimately put me on edge. I wasn’t good with uncomfortable silence, but I bit my tongue, determined not to give in first.

I lost that imaginary contest.

“Why did you lie to me?” I asked, turning toward him.

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“You told me your name was Bucky.”

“My name is Bucky. It’s what all my friends call me. It’s a nickname from when I was growing up.”

“Then why hasn’t anyone here called you Bucky.”

He sighed, “James is more professional so it's what I use at work. Think about it, who would want a surgeon named Bucky operating on them.”

I considered his point for a moment and realized I believed him. Before I could retort he added, “You weren’t exactly honest with me. You never said you were a doctor.”

I immediately became defensive, “I was just looking for a hookup, not someone to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Oh that was very clear when you hit on me.”

My jaw dropped, “The way I remember it, you hit on me.”

“Mmm…you’re probably right. I do have a thing for gorgeous women drinking tequila by themselves.”

I ran my tongue across my teeth in an attempt to fight the smile that was attempting to spread across my face.

“Okay, you know what, I’m pretending like that night never happened. We are starting fresh today. I am your intern and that’s it. No more flirting with me.”

“Whatever you say, Y/L/N,” he said, flashing me that irresistible smile. I shifted my attention away from his handsome face as the sound of sirens came into earshot.

The gurneys flowed in with injuries ranging from concussions to flesh wounds. I quickly made a move for one of the cases that I guessed to be surgical. The patient was an attractive male in his early thirties. He had three bicycle spokes poking out of his abdomen but was speaking perfectly normally.

“What happened here?” I asked him, inspecting the wounds.

“Just another day in the life,” he replied.

I chuckled, “You make it a habit of ending up in the ER?”

“It’s the best way to meet hot doctors,” he flirted. I stopped my inspection to stare at him, finding myself oddly charmed.

“What’s your name?” I said, pulling out a clipboard to fill out some paperwork.

“Quentin Beck.”

“Well Quentin Beck, I’m going to remove these spokes and stitch up your abdomen. Then I recommend we send you to CT just to ensure there isn’t any additional damage.”

“Ooh I don’t know about that. I’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Leaving so soon?” I joked.

“Can’t miss the big afterparty. I’ll see you there right?”

“You wish,” I applied a numbing agent to his wounds before carefully removing the spokes. I pulled off his shirt and started working on his sutures. Quentin kept trying to talk and I continued to shush him, focusing on tending to his wounds.

“You really should go to CT,” I said as I finished stitching him up and admired my work.

“No can do darling. My presence is expected elsewhere.”

I shook my head in disapproval, “Well I’m going to need you to sign a form that says you’re leaving against medical advice.”

“I will sign anything you ask me to.” I handed him a clipboard and showed him where to sign. He scribbled his signature, handed the clipboard back to me and stood up to leave the room. Then he doubled back and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me towards him, and kissed me, taking me completely by surprise.

When he pulled away he said, “That was for good luck.” Then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving for the hospital.

At that moment, I looked through the blinds and saw Bucky standing there, having witnessed the entire exchange. He had a surprised yet smug expression on his face

“Did you just make out with a patient?” he asked, leaning on the door jamb.

I had no words for what had just happened. “He just…kissed me…” I eventually managed.

“So that’s your type, huh?”

“I don’t have a type.”

“No? You don’t like world class doctors with irresistible charm?”

“Are you jealous?” I teased.

“Maybe I am,” he added with a smile. “But I could really use your help with a patient.”

“Of course,” I followed him out of the room and tried to shift my focus back to work. One of the patients was having difficulty breathing and needed to be intubated.

“Have you done this before?” he asked me.

“Not on a real patient,” I replied.

He smiled, “We’re going to change that.” He instructed me to get in position towards the patient's head. He handed me the necessary equipment and talked me through it. I felt my nerves increasing, not sure if I was ready to do this.

He seemed to pick up on this because then he said, “Hey, don’t panic. You can do this. I’ll be right here if you need help.” I nodded and took a deep breath, focusing on what he instructed. I had to make sure I inserted the tube into the trachea and not the esophagus. I angled the device to where Bucky had described and carefully fed the tube downwards. I looked toward him for confirmation I had done it correctly.

“Now place your hand on his chest and see if air is filling the lungs.” I did as he instructed and felt the gentle inflation of the patient’s chest.

“Yeah, I think I can feel it.” He placed his hand next to mine, overlapping ever so slightly to confirm the intubation had been successful.

He nodded and smiled at me, “Yeah you got it. Great job Dr. Y/L/N.” I couldn’t hide the smile spreading across my face and the rush that was hitting me. This was the feeling I’d been chasing for the past few years. This was why I wanted to become a surgeon.

I watched as Bucky continued his examination to determine what the patient needed. He appeared to have a few external injuries but nothing that major.

“His abdomen is swollen, so he might have some internal injuries. Y/L/N, can you take him down to CT.”

“Absolutely,” I replied. And just like that Bucky was gone, off to the next patient. I wheeled down the John Doe we just intubated to get his scans.

Once the CT was complete, I held up his scans to study them. There was severe internal bleeding in the abdomen that would likely require surgery. I paged Bucky, knowing he would need to make the ultimate call.

It didn’t take him long to answer the page. I had the scans displayed against the backlights and was studying them. He walked into the room and said, “What do you see?”

“Internal bleeding.”

“It looks like it’s coming from the kidneys. We need to get in there, stat. Book an OR.”

“Got it,” I replied, leaving the room to complete my task.

“Oh and Y/L/N? Great work today. I’ll see you in the OR.”

“I’m scrubbing in?” I asked, astounded.

He nodded with his signature smile, “You’re scrubbing in.”

next chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes doctor au #bucky barnes slow burn #bucky barnes x you

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divine-knight-hand · 10 months

Text

Worshiping the Masterpiece

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: Loki’s lover finally gains the courage to ask him about his Jotun form. When he lets her see it, she takes the moment as an opportunity to help him do a little confidence building… by kissing… and touching… and praising…

Content Warnings: Sub!Loki (but hints of him being a switch), Soft Dom!Reader, themes of insecurity, [heavy appreciation of] Loki in his Jotun form, handjob in front of a mirror, lots of praise, no oral (but just a little taste of cum!), and explicit consent

Notes: (Prepare for lengthy notes with mushy sentiments! Hehehe!)

Happy birthday, @sarahscribbles!!! I’m still pretty new-ish to this whole tumblr-fanfic-writer thing, and I ended up gravitating to her as one of the blogs I look up to the most (specifically in terms of Loki content). So, happy, happy, happy birthday, Sarah! Remember that your community loves you very much. May you get lots of presents, cake, and Loki love~

This piece was written as a contribution to her Birthday Celebration. I originally started writing using some of the prompts from the original post, but I soon lost motivation, only to remember that I had this idea on repeat in my mind sooooo long ago, and it resurfaced just in time for me to finally put it to paper. So, I didn’t end up using any of the prompts, after all. Maybe someday I’ll finish what I originally started for this challenge and post it anyways. Maybe…

All in all, it was kind of refreshing to be able to write a fic about Loki. I don't really write about him as much as I would like to, so this writing event gave me the perfect motivation to just jump right in. So, without further ado, here we go!

Word Count: 3,547

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Absolutely not.” Loki’s eyebrows furrowed at my daring request. “I refuse to burden you with that monstrous visage.”

Loki’s response to me asking to view his Jotun form again was that of pure terror. He sat next to me on our shared bed, eyes frantically avoiding mine. He seemed a lot more timid than his usual confident disposition allowed. His hands were folded over his lap, fidgeting out of obvious discomfort at the idea of me seeing him resemble a frost giant.

The first time I saw Loki in his Jotun form, it was an accident. He was taking me on a tour of the castle vault, and all was well until I was left to my own devices. I wandered around the vault, admiring the architecture, as well as the artifacts, when I found myself walking backwards into the stand that held the Casket of Ancient Winters atop it. Loki happened to be in perfect range to step in and catch it as I knocked it off its pedestal, at the cost of revealing his birth form.

Amidst the chaos his panic created, he didn’t notice me watching the way his skin changed, or admiring the raised marks that accompanied its cerulean hue. I knew Loki was born on Jotunheim–and I knew of all the trials and tribulations this fact created throughout his childhood–but I’d never even heard Loki so much as mention the possibility of having another form connected to his Jotun roots. This was new to me. He replaced the Casket and rushed out of the vault before I could even form the words to tell him how beautiful he looked. How odd…

Since that day, I was determined to see him change again. It was like an obsession to me, the way it was constantly on my mind. I had to see Loki’s Jotun form again. I just had to. Now that I’d seen it once, I knew there was a part of him that I wasn’t experiencing all this time. I felt that I was missing out on sharing something important with my lover, and that didn’t sit well with me.

There were times I tried to hint at it subtly, only to get confused and alarmed looks from him in return. I should have expected him to catch on. Nothing flies over the head of the God of Mischief. There wasn’t any point to beating around the bush anymore. I decided to finally outright ask him to change forms, and this was the exact reaction I feared.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” I asserted. “Nothing about you is monstrous. Nothing. Do you honestly think that I could love a monster?” Before he even had the chance to sarcastically respond to my rhetorical question, I beat him to it. “No, because I don’t.” I reached over and grabbed his hands in mine. “I love you, and I want to experience every part of you. Every single one. Because, I want to be able to love every single part of you.”

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he began to consider the idea. “I don’t believe you understand the true nature of my birth form.”

“Then show me.” I insisted. “Teach me everything I don’t know about you. Please… I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me.”

“You will regret this, love.” With a defeated sigh, Loki conceded.

He made sure to remove my hands from his before the familiar green flash of his seidr marked his transformation. My breath hitched at the sight of all the changes to his appearance.

His skin turned an icy blue, and his face sported markings in the form of raised lines. His eyes, formerly a similar blue, now watched me intently with a ruby red, awaiting my response.

“Loki,” I breathed, my heart swelling with the joy of finally being able to see him like this again. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

He quickly looked away, ashamed. “As sweet as your lies sing to me, please don’t.”

“I would never lie to you.” I leaned in and slowly reached out my hand.

He flinched at first, but allowed me to cup his face, the chill of his skin cooling my hand. “How do you not hate this?”

“I’ve said, already,” I smirked at him. “I love you, and if this is you—which I know it is—then I love this, too.”

“But, I’m a monster…” Loki’s eyes began to glass over with tears, but none dared to spill over his cheeks.

“No, you’re not.” I leaned in until I could feel the chill radiating off of his face against my own. “You were only told that for far too long.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known.” He sadly confessed.

My heart shattered for him. It wasn’t fair that he had to face horrible treatment just because of where he came from. Growing up, he was constantly dehumanized by his own father. Politics didn’t exactly allow Asgardians to empathize with Jotuns. Loki didn’t have a clue as to why he was treated so poorly his whole life until his adult years. No wonder he hid himself for so long. He didn’t deserve to live like that. Not at all. I was determined to make sure he would never experience that kind of pain again.

“That’s awful.” I frowned. “I promise you that I’ll make you feel loved, no matter what you look like.” I leaned in and pecked the tip of his nose. “I guarantee it.”

I brought my other hand up to cup the other side of his face before pulling him into a kiss. I felt him tense up for a moment, but a sudden chill on my back accompanied the motion of him wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to him.

When he deepened the kiss, it was colder than I expected it to be. Every point of contact I had with him sent a chill into my body, but I wasn’t cold. It was a comfortable chill. It was authentically Loki, and I wanted to explore this as far as I could go.

He pulled me onto him in a straddling position, our bodies crashing together as my hands wandered along the leather covering his back. I wanted to feel all of him. Since he swapped forms, it was like I fell in love all over again, and I was once again kissing him for the first time.

I was ravenous, wanting to touch as much of Loki as I could get my hands on, but I was also careful, fearing what could make him uncomfortable. My worries were put to rest when I felt a light twitch underneath me, and my own ache to have him began to build within me.

As we pulled apart, I left my hands cupped around his face, slowly tracing his markings with my thumbs. He’s just so beautiful~

“My desire for you could drive me to madness, darling.” He breathed, a smile ghosting his lips. “I do hope you’re aware.”

“I am.” I softly giggled.

“That being said, I have to have you, my dear.” His voice deepened to a growl. “Just give me a moment to return to my usual appearance.”

“Wait!” I interjected. “Why can’t I take you like this?”

“Are you off your rocker?!” Loki fired back, terror creeping back into his eyes.

“Maybe I am,” I retorted, “But I know that I want you like this, and you can’t change my mind on that.”

He just stared at me in utter shock, unmoving and unspeaking.

As the silence hung between us, an idea slowly crept into my mind. “There’s actually something I’d like to try, if you don’t mind.”

Loki let out a deep sigh, the shock in his expression lessening.“If you’re absolutely sure you want this, then I’ll be at your mercy. But, the moment something happens to you-”

“It won’t.” I cut in. “Because I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Loki frowned in disbelief, muttering, “Your optimism is dangerous.”

I stood up off of the bed, beckoning for him to follow me. “First, I want to see all of you. Would you mind stripping?”

“As you wish.” Loki lowered his head, his seidr removing his clothes with a flash.

I let out a soft gasp out of awe at the view. The icy hue continued from his head to his toes, as did the raised markings in his skin. They decorated his shoulders, chest, legs, and even his-

I felt arousal begin to pool between my thighs at the sight of his ornate length. “Loki…”

He looked back up at me, clearly anxious for my response. “Is this what you wanted?”

I quickly approached him and cupped his face in my hands, kissing him again. “It’s everything and more.” Loki’s cheeks blushed a light purple as I took him by the hand and led him across the bedroom to stand in front of a full-length mirror. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you with everything I have, just as I’ve always done.” He responded, and I just knew he was being genuine. I could almost feel it emanating from his words.

“Kneel, my love.” I softly commanded.

Loki knelt in front me, exactly where I placed him. I smiled warmly down at him, stroking his cheek before moving to sit right behind him, looking over his shoulder at the mirror.

I looked over his reflection, my eyes lingering at how he instinctively spread his thighs as he sat on his heels, allowing his semi-erect cock to hang in the middle of the sinful display. He was almost ready, and fully accessible to me. I felt my ache for him thrumming between my thighs, but I quickly refocused on my mission when I noticed that he refused to meet his reflection’s gaze, instead looking away from me and the mirror entirely.

“Look, Loki.” I lightly coaxed his face back towards the mirror by his chin. “Look at how beautiful you really are.” I dropped my other hand near his inner thigh. “May I?”

“Please,” I could see eagerness flash in his eyes as he glanced at my reflection before looking back at his own.

I began to lightly rub along his thigh, my heart fluttering at his resulting shiver. “I want you to see how perfect you are as you’re overcome with pleasure.” His eyes fluttered closed as he shivered again, and I paused my motions. “Watch.” I reminded him.

His eyes flew open at my command. “Yes, of course.”

“Yes, what?” I felt a proud smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

“Yes, mistress.” He corrected himself.

“There’s my sweet prince.” I sighed my praise as I resumed my motion on his thigh, noticing the twitch of his cock at my words. I began kissing him messily along his neck as my hand continued to tease him. When I brought my free hand up to trace the marks on his chest, I noticed the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away.

“M- Mistress, please…” He let out a low moan. “Please, I need more…” A bead of precum gathered at the tip of his fully grown erection, which now began to shine with a deep blush of purple, similar to that of his cheeks.

I moved from his neck to whisper in his ear, “If you want it, then you’ll have it.” I stroked his face with my free hand. “A work of art like you deserves to be worshiped and praised.” I lightly nipped his ear. “And I’ve been blessed with the privilege to make sure that you are. Now, sit tight, my prince.”

I rose to my feet and moved, swift as the wind, to our dresser for lubricant to cover my hand with before returning to my original place with Loki in front of the mirror. “Tonight, I plan on fucking you with my hand, leaving your whole body on display for the both of us. I want you to see that you are no monster. You’re a masterpiece, and deserve to be treated as such.” I gave his shoulder a light squeeze with my free hand. “If you wish to stop at any time, you can always use our safe word. You remember it, don’t you?”

“I do.” His words were just above a whisper.

“Very good.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Then let’s begin.” I started to slowly stroke his cock with my lubricated hand, earning another shudder, accompanied by a contented sigh, from him. “I just have one rule for you…” Loki turned his head to look at me with curiosity before I softly turned it back to the mirror with my free hand. “You have to watch the whole time.”

“Ah- Mmm…” He let out a clipped moan before responding. “Yes, mistress.”

“Very good.” I slowly stroked all the way from the base of his cock to the tip before swirling my thumb in small circles on the head and stroking back to the base. Each time I teased the head, a small growl emanated from the back of his throat, only to crescendo into another moan when I stroked back down to the base.

I felt each of his markings against my hand with every stroke, and I wondered for a moment how they would feel against my inner walls. I felt arousal thrumming between my thighs again. Focus, damnit!

But, focusing was difficult. No matter how I looked at Loki, my eyes always returned to his elaborately decorated cock. It was as if I walked into an opulent dining room, only to end up staring at the shiny centerpiece all throughout dinner. It was the center of attention in an already artistic scene. I struggled to find the perfect words to convey these thoughts, so I kept my praise simple.

“You have such a pretty cock~” My words were a sultry whisper against his skin, accompanied by the kisses that I peppered along his jaw. “I can’t wait to pleasure it in every way I know how. Would you like that, my prince?”

“Y- Mmm… Yes, mistress.” Loki struggled to respond between moans.

“I would like that, too.” I peeked up at the mirror to make sure that he was still looking. He was. How obedient~

Not only was I filled with the pride of seeing him willing to do as he was told, but I also noticed the way his chest moved with each heavy breath he took, which it typically did when I dominated him. His breathing would grow labored as I teased him before he finally found the words—or word fragments—to beg me for more.

His hair also didn’t change. It tumbled down his angular face in its usual raven locks, the smallest of curls lying slick against his forehead as a sheen of sweat glued them there.

And just under it were his eyes. Though they shone a bright red, his pupils were blown wide with lust, leaving a sliver of red around the edges. Save for their usual blue color, his eyes looked exactly the same as they usually did. It was comforting to see that even though he changed, there were familiar parts of him to remind me that he was still my Loki.

Although, change is nice~ I thought as I allowed my free hand to roam his chest again, tracing the markings until I approached his hips. I reached down and began to fondle his balls, still keeping pace on his cock with my lubricated hand. His eyes were lidded as he quickly neared an ecstasy-born stupor. He used one of his hands to steady himself on the ground as the other wound into his hair, ruffling it with each pass he made with his fingers.

“Yes, I would love to please you.” I continued my earlier thought. “To worship you like the god you are. You deserve that. You deserve to have someone willing to offer you their service. Even as your mistress, I wish to satisfy you.” I sped up the pace of my hand on his cock, and a whimper escaped his throat. “You look so regal, my love. Do you see it? Do you see how, even as you sit bare in front of me, you still look elegant enough to sit upon the Asgardian throne?”

“N- no, mistress…” Loki’s voice cracked as he let out another moan.

“Hm. That’s unfortunate.” I mused. “Maybe someday I should suck you off as you’re seated upon it. I’m sure that would help you see what I see.”

Loki bucked his hips into my hand. “M- mistress…” His voice curled into a light sound that almost resembled a whimper. “Feels good… Feels so- Mmm… good…”

“It’s about time you felt something other than pain while showing this part of who you are.” I trailed kissed back up his neck to his ear before whispering, “You’re still watching?” I glanced at the mirror to see him still looking, just as I’d asked him to. “That’s my sweet prince. I’m so glad you’re heeding my directions tonight. This is all for you, after all.”

“Yes, mistress.” Loki gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure before they shot back open as he remembered my command. “M- Mistress…?”

“Yes, my love?” I felt a small surge of concern rush through me. “Is something wrong?”

The soft whine he let out clued me in to what was happening before he even responded. “I- I’m close… Mmm- May I cum? …Please?” His last plea was no more than a breathy whisper. He needed this. Desperately. And who would I be to deprive him of it?

“Cum for me, my prince.” I purred. “You’ve been so good tonight. You deserve to. Come on, show me how your pretty cock looks when it’s dripping with cum.”

“Ohhh, mistress… Ah-” Loki practically screamed my name as his eyes rolled back, ropes of cum painting his thigh in a milky white.

I helped him ride out his high as his cock twitched in my hand, spilling his seed. Every time I thought he’d finished, he’d release what seemed to be another load with a roaring moan and a full-body shiver. I just kept stroking his cock while softly kissing along his neck and praising him until the last of it slowly dripped out over my fingers and he was left panting.

“That’s it, my prince.” I sighed against his neck. “You were so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” I finally let go of his cock and brought my hand to my mouth to slowly lick the cum off of my fingers. “Mmm, and you taste so good~”

“Mmm, darling,” Loki’s voice wavered as he took on a cautionary tone. “If you carry on like that, I just might grow hard again.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to take care of you again.” I playfully walked my now clean fingers up his shoulder. “And again… and again… and again…”

“I like the sound of that.” He chuckled softly as our eyes moved back to the mirror in front of us.

I looked him over again, my eyes lingering over each part of him, almost as if my brain could take a snapshot his beauty. His hair was thoroughly ruffled, sweat shone on each curve of his skin, and his cock hung limply between his thighs once again, having spent its cum onto one of them. I watched as it began to slide down his thigh, following the raised markings before nearing the floor.

“You truly admire this, don’t you?” Loki’s question interrupted my thoughts.

“I do.” I answered without hesitation. “And I won’t be satisfied until you do, too.”

“You stubborn woman.” Loki lightly chuckled. “I will say, if this is the treatment my Jotun form entitles me to, then maybe it’s a sight I could get used to.”

I couldn’t keep back the cheesy grin my mouth curved into. “I’ll take it.” I crawled around him to sit between him and the mirror, holding my hands out to him.

He smirked and took my hands in his. “I feel compelled to thank you.”

I cocked my head in curiosity. “Hm? What for?”

He leaned closer to me, and I leaned in to meet him in the middle, electricity crackling in the air between us. “For loving the ugliest parts of me, and cherishing the things that I’ve only ever frowned upon.”

“Oh, Loki,” I squeezed his hand. “You take yourself too seriously. As soon as you stop criticizing yourself, I know you’ll lead a happier life.” I brought the same hand up to my lips to brush a soft kiss onto it. “Now, come on. You must be tired. Let me clean you up, and then we can cuddle for the rest of the night.”

“Of course.” Loki’s eyes conveyed a sweet sense of innocence… It was too sweet. He must have had other plans.

My suspicions were confirmed when he leaned in towards my ear and whispered. “Though, I believe I still have some dues to pay before we carry on with our night. Don’t you?”

I felt my ache for him quickly returning all at once. “Oh, you-”

Before I could finish my teasing remark, Loki had me trapped in another kiss.

#loki laufeyson #smut #marvel #marvel fanfic #loki fanfic #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x female reader smut #marvel smut #loki mcu #mcu loki #mcu fanfiction #loki fic #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #smut fanfiction #fem reader

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quack-quack-snacks · 3 months

Text

Star Crossed - Chapter 7

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Normal AOUAD things Word Count: 5,362

“I mean… I wanted to bite her.”

“N-no. But you didn’t!” You tried weakly to protest.

“I shouldn't stay with you any longer. If I hadn't come to my senses, I would've bitten her.”

“No, wait. Stop!” Su-hyeok tried but she just took a step towards the door as she spoke with determination.

“I'll go.”

“Please wait,” On-jo begged, stopping Nam-ra in her tracks. She then turned to Cheong-san. “You saw Gwi-nam get bitten by zombies?”

The boy rolled his eyes before answering. “I told you a hundred times, yes.”

“And you saw Gwi-nam turn?” She questioned.

He paused for a moment before sighing. “No, I didn't. I was busy running away.”

On-jo then turned to Su-hyeok. “Su-hyeok, you definitely fought Gwi-nam?”

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed.

“There's no reason for either to lie,” she started. “Maybe Gwi-nam was bitten but was not affected. In the movies, there are always people who are immune, remember?”

“We shouldn’t rely on movies for our information. Those are fiction, this is real life,” you whispered sadly and On-jo looked at you empathetically, also knowing what it was like to lose your best friend to this god-awful virus.

“And still, she tried to bite her,” Ji-min announced and your head shot over to look at her. “She could have bitten her for real. Regardless, she isn't normal, so I'm not going with her.”

A tear streaked down Nam-ra’s face and you grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently but she shook you off and your heart broke when she scrambled to take a step back, flashbacks of when Gyeong-su turned presenting themselves in your mind.

“Ji-min, stop,” On-jo pleaded.

“What? Are you saying that I'm wrong?”

On-jo paused as she debated in her mind over what to say. “Maybe… I really don't know what we should do.”

“We can't pretend she's fine,” Ji-min insisted with an angry glare towards her.

“Enough!” Nam-ra called out and everyone fell silent, the only sound being the soft groans from the turned students out the doors.

“Please don't fight. Leaving will solve everything,” and with that, she quickly started walking towards the door and before you could run after her, On-jo already had and grabbed ahold of her arm.

“Don't go! Where would you go?” She cried out as Nam-ra struggled to set herself free from her grasp. “Stop it. Please!” Nam-ra finally stopped and they stared at each other. “I don't want anyone dying.” On-jo’s hands glided down Nam-ra’s arm until they reached her hand which she gently held in her own. “Hyeon-ju and I-sak… They're hands were very cold before they turned,” she turned around to face everyone else, one of her hands still holding Nam-ra’s as she spoke again. “Nam-ra's hands are warm,” she explained her point. “She isn't a zombie. So cut it out, and let's talk about how to get to the roof.”

“No,” Ji-min stubbornly demanded.

“Ji-min!”

“No way! She may be fine now, but who knows what's gonna happen when she turns?” She looked around for help as everyone else had remained quiet for the entire quarrel. “Guys, say something. This is wrong,” everyone remained quiet at her pleas. “She said herself that she wanted to bite her. She has zombie blood in her veins. Zombies killed my mom and dad,” she paused for a moment and your eyes widened as you looked at her sadly in sudden realization. “My mom…”

Seeing a break in the talking, you looked around for something that could help you and keep your friend by your side. Finding it, your eyes lit up and you walked over to where it was. Picking it up, you walked back over to Nam-ra and gently grabbed her hand, starting to tie the curtain tieback around her hand.

“What are you doing?” She asked in confusion and you looked up at her for a second before turning your head back down to focus on the knot you were tying.

“I’m tying us together.”

She struggled and tried to pull her hand away from you, not willing to allow you to let yourself die if she did end up turning. “Stop it. Stop!”

You gently grabbed her other hand and placed it down, her struggling stopping as you looked her deep in the eyes. “Hold still, I don’t want to make it too tight for you,” you looked back down and tied to the fabric around your own hand as Su-hyeok came up to stand beside you.

“(Y/n), I don’t think this is-”

“Su-hyeok, respectfully, stay the fuck out of this,” you interrupted him as his hand reached out to stop yours and he sighed before stepping back in defeat, knowing he wouldn’t be able to convince you to stop no matter what he said.

This was your best friend after all.

You turned back to the group and held up your, now-connected, hands with a sarcastic smile. “Are you happy now? Now you don’t have to worry. If she turns and bites anyone, it’ll be me and not any of you.”

You saw some of the group’s eyes tear up but nobody spoke out to protest.

You sat with Nam-ra to your left near the window and Su-hyeok to your right. No matter how much convincing you tried to give him, he wouldn’t leave to go sit on the other side of the room with the rest of the group. It warmed your heart but annoyed you nonetheless at his stubbornness.

You couldn’t really speak though with how stubborn you were being with Nam-ra. He was probably just being a good friend just like how you were being to Nam-ra. He’d only said it once but you knew he meant it.

~364 days ago~

You walked to the cafeteria by yourself like always, passing by the group of friends Su-hyeok had gathered after leaving Myeong-hwan and his little band of bullies. You sent a subtle smile towards him when he looked at you and he returned it full force, not trying to hide it in any way so you immediately looked away and plugged your headphones in. You were still terrified by the thought of Su-hyeok getting caught up in the way people thought about you, he didn’t deserve that.

You let out a little gasp as a hand grabbed one of your wrists and your waist before pulling you into a broom closet that was to your right. You rolled your eyes after you got past the surprise, knowing it was him. You turned around to find him grinning at you so genuinely that it almost made you forget your annoyance.

Almost.

You slapped his chest and he winced slightly. “Su! I told you about this, what if someone sees us?”

“And I’ve told you about this, I don’t care who sees us. I don’t care about my reputation. I just want to hang out with you,” he reassured but you rolled your eyes despite the heat rising to your cheeks that wasn’t visible under the dim lighting of the closet.

“Well, I do. I don’t want you to be seen with me,” you told him with a stern tone and he just looked at you with a sad smile. He wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you in for a hug that you instinctually returned. You sighed as he rested his head on top of yours. “I know you have your own reputation. I know that… but I don’t want it to be any more tainted by the fact that you hang out with the school bully’s little sister. That… that would just hurt you and your friends,” you pulled away so you could look him in the eyes. “I like your friends. They’re good for you and they’re kind. So, I don’t want them to be caught up in it either. I don’t want them to leave you over a silly fact like someone you’re friends with.”

He shook his head with a frown. “(Y/n), if they choose to leave me over somebody that I am friends with who they don’t even know, I don’t want to be friends with them anyways.”

You still didn’t look convinced at his words and plopped your forehead against his chest. “But they’re becoming your real friends! Friends that you need after… everything. You should keep them.”

He placed his hands on your cheeks and forced your head up so you could look at him. You tried to avoid eye contact because of how intimate the position seemed but he tapped your cheek and you sighed, complying. He smiled when your eyes met and your heart fluttered.

Stop it. You know he doesn’t like you like that.

You mentally smacked yourself for giving yourself false hope but stopped when he spoke. “(Y/n). They might be my friends, and I might need them in my life,” he paused to place a lock of hair behind your ear. “But you’re my best friend. I don’t want to have a life without you in it.”

You smiled despite yourself and just wrapped your arms around him again.

Even if it never becomes anything more, at least he considers me his best friend.

~Present~

You were brought back to the present when he rested his hand on yours and squeezed it. You looked over at him with a smile but it faltered when you thought of something. Putting on a fake teasing smile that he didn’t seem to realize wasn’t genuine, you spoke. “So…” You leaned over to elbow him gently. “I saw you drew a picture of a girl in your notebook,” his face flushed and he looked at you with a panicked expression. “She looks familiar, who is it?” Your tone turned into genuine curiosity as you were able to hide your disappointment.

He let out a sigh that seemed relieved but also disappointed. With a blush, he looked away from you and spoke, “She’s just a drawing, nobody really…”

He didn’t seem too convinced of his wordings but you decided to let it go with a slight push of your shoulder against his and he smiled. Right as you were about to speak again, you heard banging from across the room. You looked over to see Dae-su ramming his body into the storage closet door. While he did, the zombies got more aggressive and tried to come into the room. Everyone else noticed this and started yelling at him to stop. As he calmed down and slid down the door, you turned back around to face the window, not bothering to turn around when soft music started playing behind you.

As Ji-min started to talk to the camera, you remained facing forward looking out to the blue sky. The camera passed around, each person leaving their message for their parents or what they wanted to be known for if all went wrong. After On-jo’s message to her father, telling him how much she loves him, she stood up and walked over to where Nam-ra, Su-hyeok, and you sat. She held the camera out to Su-hyeok who was closest to her.

“You guys can leave a message as well if you want to.”

Su-hyeok took the camera and looked at it for a moment. “I don't really have anything to say,” he turned to you and Nam-ra. “Do either of you?”

You looked at Nam-ra and she shook her head. Looking back at him, you spoke. “No.”

On-jo looked from you to Nam-ra, to Su-hyeok, and then to the tie that held you and Nam-ra together, then back to you. “We trust you. You can untie it now,” after that, she walked away to retreat to her chair on the other side of the room.

Su-hyeok placed the camera on the table behind you and you hesitated before reaching over to grab it.

Opening the camera and flipping the screen so it faced you and you could see how you looked while recording yourself, you hesitated before pressing the record button.

“It is currently day two of being trapped in the school. None of us have had water since the apocalypse started so we’re all tired and dehydrated,” you took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m scared to go to sleep and realize that I won’t be able to wake up,” you felt tears well up in your eyes as you thought about what you were going to say next but you blinked them away. “My brother… the high school bully… the one who always woke me up in the mornings an hour before my usual wake-up time by smacking me with a pillow. He… he was bitten by zombies and bit my best friend. I guess he’s still sentient even after being infected and that got passed to her since she hasn’t turned yet either and it’s probably been at least half an hour. I-” You got cut off by your voice breaking and you took a moment to collect yourself. “Gwi-nam? I know there’s no way you’ll ever see this… but I cannot believe what you’ve become. I stayed silent for years when you joined Myeong-hwan’s group because you told me it was to protect me. To protect me not only from them but also from Dad. He only focused on you and how badly you did in school. But, after a while, it stopped being about protecting me. Even though I know you were still scared of them, both Dad and Myeong-hwan, you liked doing it. You liked hurting the kids of the school. I wish I had said something sooner so you would have stopped before it’s too late but here we are,” you raised a hand to gestures around you with a frustrated sigh. “I’m stuck in a classroom and my best friend has been infected. Because of you, nonetheless. I don’t know what to do anymore,” you sighed again and a tear streaked down your cheek. “I already lost Mom to the pressure of dad’s expectations, I don’t want to lose you too,” you sobbed once and closed the camera.

Neither Nam-ra nor Su-hyeok said anything and you wonder if they even heard it from how quietly you were speaking. You placed the camera back onto the table behind you and after a few seconds, Nam-ra picked it up and faced the screen towards herself. She seemed troubled, like she was seeing something that no one else could see, and you grabbed her free hand gently.

She looked down at your hands, seeing the red fabric still tying them together. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, (Y/n).”

“I’m doing it because if I didn’t then the people over there,” you gestured to the group with your free hand. “Would have kicked you out… I know it was your choice, but I just couldn’t allow it. You’re too important to me Nam, don’t you understand that?”

She looked down at her lap for a minute before asking, “You know how I said I wanted to bite you earlier?”

“Yeah, I know. But you didn’t, and you won’t,” you insisted and she nodded but still looked grim.

“It felt like I was dreaming. You were just giving off such a beautiful scent,” she said seriously but you couldn’t resist the temptation to playfully flirt with her or tease her.

“Well, if you liked my perfume that much, you could’ve just asked,” you winked at her mischievously and she shook her head with a smile. You went back to being serious as you asked her your next question, “What kind of scent was it?”

“I'm not sure. It was something that I had never smelled before. All I could think about was eating you… How much I wanted to bite you. Bite you and eat you. But then I heard your voice saying my nickname,” she looked at you and smiled.

“So you’re saying I brought you back?” You teased and she scoffed with a playful eyeroll

“Yes. I am saying that it was your voice that woke me up.”

You smiled and looked down when suddenly she looked over her shoulder at the door and stood up.

“What is it?”

“I heard something strange…” She started walking towards the door and you, still being connected via the curtain holder, walked after her, Su-hyeok following loosely behind. The group started walking towards the two of you as you did and you heard indistinct talking which you couldn’t make out. Nam-ra stood for a second and listened. “I hear it.”

“You hear what?”

“What?”

“What do you hear?”

You, Su-hyeok, and On-jo all spoke one after another.

She paused as she listened again. “I think someone is puking,” she paused before continuing. “It stopped.”

“What stopped?” Su-hyeok asked from behind you and you turned around to give him a disappointed look.

“The sound of puking,” you told him and he oohed while you shook your head.

“Yes. It stopped,” Nam-ra confirmed.

“Stop it. You're scaring me,” Hyo-ryung complained and Nam-ra turned to look at her, confused.

“Don't you hear it?” She asked but everyone shook their heads.

“I'm not hearing anything,” Hyo-ryung told her again and breathed heavily. Nam-ra’s eyes dilated for a moment as she stared at her. “What? What?” Hyo-ryung asked, obviously scared which kind of ticked you off.

“Are you scared?” The girl connected to you asked.

“Stop that.”

“It's just… you're the one breathing the loudest.”

“Do you hear that?” On-jo whispered loudly to Hyo-ryung and Dae-su.

“All I hear is that zombie,” the boy responded.

Nam-ra looked around, focusing on some things you couldn’t see or hear. “We should go. It's weird here.”

“We can't just leave,” Cheong-san stated. “There are zombies out there.”

“We should've gone to the roof when the music was playing. Shit,” Dae-su groaned and sat down in one of the chairs.

“Music. Wait a minute. We have music!” On-jo exclaimed excitedly.

“What? What music?” He asked.

“I heard some music playing a while ago, do you mean that music?” You asked and she nodded before walking over and picking up the video camera still resting on the table.

“I have an idea. We're going to have to build a tall barricade here,” she walked around and gestured a line down the middle of the room. “And then we lure them in with music. Use the instruments too.”

“We could also use the instruments as a source of noise for the zombies to hear us and come after us,” you suggested and she nodded at your idea.

“Yes, that could work well! If we leave the door open, they'll follow the music in. Once it's clear, we take the back door up to the roof,” she continued to explain the plan only to receive a couple of confused looks from her classmates.

“Am I the only one who’s lost right now?” Wu-jin asked and Dae-su raised his hand in agreement.

“Basically, we are going to build a barricade in the middle of the room by stacking the chairs and desks here, open the front door, before running out the back door once the zombies have all gathered into the room,” you looked back at On-jo for confirmation. “Right?”

“Not here. Farther back. We need more room on this side,” she corrected and you let out an ‘oh’ while nodding.

“And why is that?” Dae-su asked, not getting it.

“There aren't that many of us, but there are lots of zombies,” she explained and Dae-su closed his eyes with his head facing upwards.

“Ah…” he sighed out in understanding. “She sucks at school, but she's pretty smart,” he backhandedly complimented her.

“Hey!” She growled at him and he held his hands up in surrender.

“It's a compliment,” he defended and you rolled your eyes with a scoff.

“It’s a backhanded compliment,” you pointed out but he just gave you a confused look.

“What’s that?”

“It basically means a compliment with an underlying insult. ‘You’re pretty strong for a girl’ is an example of a backhanded compliment. It’s degrading the person you told it to and setting them on a different level than the rest. In this case, it’s just insulting,” you explained with a wink at the end while he just looked at you in shock.

“Wow, (Y/n), I never knew you were so smart. I always thought you were quiet because you didn’t know anything,” he told you and you rolled your eyes.

“Another example of a backhanded compliment,” you stated and he just rolled his eyes with a playful dismissive wave in your direction.

“Let's give it a shot,” Cheong-san commented after he saw the conversation/argument between Dae-su and yourself end. “We can figure out the rest later,” everyone nodded at his words.

“We have a TV too,” you pointed out. “If we can maybe connect the camera to the TV it might be louder than just the camera by itself.”

“I can do that!” Joon-yeong blurted out. “I will have to look for the cord though. Hey, can you help me look, Ji-min?”

The girl nodded. “Sure,” they both went to look for the cord and Hyo-ryung quickly followed behind them.

On-jo walked up to where you and Nam-ra were standing side by side. “We should untie that,” she pointed to the knot and then reached forward to untie it when you lightly knocked Nam-ra’s hand back away from On-jo’s outreaching one with your own.

“It’s okay, On-jo,” you gave her a small, although genuine, smile but she just frowned.

“She'll never be able to get close to the others this way. And no one will approach her,” she mentioned and you nodded for her to continue. “Hatred is contagious… but so is trust.”

She reached forward again and this time you let her, holding your hands out so it would be easier for her to untie it.

“You should've been the class president,” Nam-ra told her with a genuine but still monotone voice and On-jo just looked down as she smiled.

As you and Nam-ra just watched On-jo leave, Su-hyeok jogged over to stand beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let's help out.”

You nodded and the three of you went over to assist. Finding whatever you could to help create a strong barrier, you pushed and pulled desks and chairs and instruments and cabinets to wherever it was needed.

“It's looking great,” Dae-su examined the work done with a proud expression and you took a step back to do so as well.

“Alright. I think this is good enough,” On-jo explained with a worried face after checking the situation outside.

“Okay,” Cheong-san agreed before Dae-su called for the rest of you on the other side of the wall near where the exit was supposed to be.

“Aren't you guys coming? We left a gap over there for you.”

“Let’s go,” Su-hyeok directed, looking back and forth between everyone before grabbing a chair and walking towards the gap in the door. He placed it down before stepping onto the desk and hopping over the gap. You helped Nam-ra and On-jo hop across, Su-hyeok doing the same on the other side, until you saw Cheong-san stop, not hopping over himself.

“(Y/n), you go,” he told you and you nodded before hopping over yourself, Su-hyeok’s hands landing on your waist to help you even though for the previous girls he only held their hands. You and On-jo looked back to see Cheong-san still hadn’t jumped over, standing on the other side looking like he had no intention of crossing the barrier.

“Why aren't you coming over?” On-jo questioned.

“Well, someone has to stay to open the door.”

“Fuck…” you cursed. “We totally forgot about that…”

“Couldn't you have come up with a better plan?” Dae-su complained and you smacked his arm which he dramatically grabbed in pain.

“It's okay,” Cheong-san reassured. “I'll come over right away.”

“Wait,” you protested. “I'll come,” you told him and pressed your hands up on the cabinet to lift yourself up when hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back down.

“It's fine.”

“Like hell, you will.”

Cheong-san and Su-hyeok both spoke at the same time and Su-hyeok lightly pushed you back as he jumped over the cabinet himself. You let out a sound of complaint but he just poked your nose which succeeded in rebooting your brain for a second.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised and you pressed your lips together as you debated if you should let him go but knowing you were on a limited schedule you just sighed and held out your pinkie. It was childish and something you hadn’t done in years but he just laughed and interlocked your pinkies. You smiled at him before backing up, making sure to give plenty of enough room for them to jump over when they had the door open.

After a while, Cheong-san came back alone but the door was yet to be opened. You decided not to say anything because you knew two people on that side would just be too many people to get out.

Seconds later, the door opened and Su-hyeok ran to jump over the cabinet, using the window sill to give himself an advantage before you pushed a desk placed on its side where the gap was. You held it there as Dae-su, Cheong-san, and Su-hyeok pulled a bookshelf over and pushed it to where you once stood before moving out of the way while Joon-yeong started the music. Zombies flooded into the room and you all held it there before On-jo ran to the window to see how much you all had succeeded in your plan.

By her face, it wasn’t good.

“Dae-su, you gotta make some noise!” She instructed and Dae-su took a deep breath before screaming.

“Die, zombies! Fucking die!

“Do it one more time!” She ordered desperately.

“Shit! Stupid zombies, motherfuckers!”

On-jo grabbed an instrument and started hitting it, creating a loud banging sound and the girls followed suit as Wu-jin ran over to the window to see if the halls were clear. You stayed and held onto the bookshelf, keeping it there as the zombies piled and started to climb over.

“Wu-jin!” Cheong-san screamed in distress but he shook his head.

“We can't go yet! Not yet!” He looked back in anguish and all the girls ran back to help support the barrier, hitting the zombies that had climbed over back to the other side.

As a zombie had crawled over the rest to where Nam-ra had run back over to help, you quickly looked around and picked up a drumstick that was lying on the floor and then ran back over to her. “Nam-ra!” You screamed as you stabbed the zombie through the eye with the drumstick along with other zombies that had started to climb over and they fell back down the crowd in a lifeless heap.

As you saw Cheong-san do something similar for On-jo, you heard Hyo-ryung shouting at Wu-jin despairingly. “It's not going to hold up!”

“How much longer is it gonna take? Let's go!” Dae-su called out but the answer was the same.

“A little more. Not yet!”

‘A little more’ became ‘just a few more’ which became ‘they’re still coming’ until finally it stopped.

“Clear. We have to go now!” Wu-jin shouted as he opened the door to find no zombies roaming the hallway. “Hurry!”

Hyo-ryung was the first to go, followed by Ji-min, then Joon-yeong and Nam-ra, and then On-jo. Su-hyeok, Cheong-san, Dae-su, and you were the last of the bunch.

“(Y/n)! Go!” The three boys seemed to yell out simultaneously and you would’ve laughed given another situation but you just squeezed your eyes tight as you continued to push against the barrier to hold it up.

“Fuck off and save yourselves first!” You screamed back at them.

“Dae-su, go!” Cheong-san tried again but to a different member.

“You go first,” when Cheong-san nor Su-hyeok nor you responded, he yelled out more strainedly, “I'm gonna shit my pants. Go!”

Su-hyeok reluctantly left but not before grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you out of the room. You turned back just in time to see Cheong-san drag Dae-su away from the barrier and the barrier collapsed. You turned back around to focus on running and hurried after the others who were headed for the roof.

As you all continued to run up the stairs, Su-hyeok, who was still holding onto your wrist for dear life, tripped and almost brought you down with him if you hadn’t caught yourself in time. You reached down to hold his hand and drag him up. “Hurry!”

You all reached the top and you saw Cheong-san twisting the handles to no avail as the doors didn’t give way.

“Come on, open it!” Dae-su whined, looking behind him in fear of anything there.

“It's locked,” Cheong-san breathed out in disbelief.

“What? Move!” Dae-su pushed Cheong-san out of the way to try himself, slamming his shoulder into the door in an attempt to open it but to no success.

“Wait. Get back. Move,” Choeng-san told everyone as he ran towards the keypad to try and enter any code that might work.

As they started to call through the door in hopes of someone being on the roof, you looked over to see the sign written on the door and sighed in anger. Anger at the situation, anger at the door, but also, anger at yourself.

You had known the rooftop was always locked, your brother had told you time and time again but in the moment you had completely forgotten.

Su-hyeok and Cheong-san had gone down the stairs with their makeshift weapons and you looked back and forth between them and the door. Nam-ra had announced that the zombies had arrived and you quickly decided to try every combination on the keypad that you could. It wasn’t great but it was something. Thank god it was only 4 digits.

That’s still 9,999 codes though.

You could hear the zombies as they screamed and growled but you just focused on trying the codes. Nam-ra had the great idea of throwing a tarp over to hold back the zombies and it did an amazing job, only a few zombies got passed which Cheong-san and Su-hyeok dealt with accordingly.

Dae-su and Wu-jin fell to their knees, leaning against the door as they gave up on using brute force to wrench the door open. You watched from the corner of your eye as they ran to help with the tarp but just remained focused on trying to wrack your brain for the code. They changed the code every day but you just knew you had seen it. Gwi-nam kept a paper in his room that held the number combinations to open the rooftops because of how often his group went up there. You had seen it once and even took a photo of it, just because you wanted to. You’d never done anything with it, you just had it, looking at the codes now and then as you debated whether or not you should go up there. You decided against it every time.

8834

Just as you had remembered it and you almost laughed with glee, you heard Nam-ra say something from behind you and it made your heart stop.

“Why didn’t you die?”

You looked behind you just in time to see your brother get sent slamming down onto the blue tarp. Your eyes then locked onto Nam-ra’s and she looked at you with the same amount of shock you were looking at her with. You shook your head in dismissal of the situation, the zombies below still coming and cornering your group. “Guys! I’ve unlocked it! The door’s unlocked! Let’s go!”

On-jo was the one to push open the door and you waited until everyone piled out onto the roof, saving Cheong-san and Su-hyeok for last before you followed them out. Just before running through the door to escape the inbound zombies, you saw a withering bouquet of flowers leaning against the corner of the wall.

They were your favorites.

~~~

~~~

Taglist!

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Lmk if you want to be added!

#all of us are dead #aouad #su-hyeok #su hyeok #su hyeok x reader

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 7 months

Text

By: Anonymous

Published: Oct 16, 2023

When my first son claimed he was trans, I eagerly ‘affirmed’ him. When his three-year-old brother decided he wanted to be trans, too, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.

I was a social-justice organizer and facilitator before social justice took over the progressive world. I was at the nascent movement’s forefront, introducing the concept of intersectionality to organizations and asking people to share their pronouns.

My friends and I felt like we were the cool kids, on the vanguard of the revolutionary wave that would change the world. We were going to achieve what people in that milieu call “collective liberation.”

Within this context, I came out as a lesbian and identified as queer. I also fell in love, entered a committed relationship, and gave birth to a son. Two years later, my spouse gave birth to our second son.

Having children and experiencing the love and devotion I felt toward them, was a game changer for me. I began to experience internal tensions. My thinking was split between what I felt instinctively as a mother; and what I “should” be feeling and doing as a white anti-racist social-justice parent.

Because I’d felt victimized by my parents’ rejection of my sexuality, I wanted to make sure to honor my own children’s “authentic” selves. In particular, I was primed to look for any clues that might suggest they could be transgender.

My spouse and I raised our sons with gender-neutral clothes, toys, and language. While we used he/him pronouns, and others called them boys, we did not call them boys, or even tell them that they were boys.

In our everyday reading of books or descriptions of people in our lives, we did not say “man” or “woman”; we said “people.” We thought we were doing the right thing, both for them and for the world.

Even when our first son was still young, he already struck us as different from other boys—being both extremely gifted and unusually sensitive. By age three or so, he started to orient more toward the females in his life than the males. “I like the mamas,” he would say.

We started to attribute some of this difference to the possibility that he was transgender. Instead of orienting him toward the reality of his biological sex by telling him he was a boy, we wanted him to tell us if he felt he was a boy or a girl. As true believers, we thought that we should “follow his lead” to determine his true identity.

At the same time, I was taking a deep dive into the field of attachment and child development. This made me understand that attachment is hierarchical; and that parents, not children, are meant to be in the lead. This obviously conflicted with my insistence on letting my child decide his gender. Sadly, it was the latter impulse that won the day.

At around age four, my son began to ask me if he was a boy or a girl. I told him he could choose. I didn’t use those words—I imagined that I was taking a more sophisticated approach. I told him, “When babies are born with a penis, they are called boys, and when babies are born with a vagina, they are called girls. But some babies who are born with a penis can be girls, and some babies born with a vagina can be boys. It all depends on what you feel deep inside.”

He continued to ask me what he was, and I continued to repeat these lines. I’d resolved my inner conflict by “leading” my son with this framework. Or so I told myself.

His question, and my response to it, would come back to haunt me. In fact, I remain haunted to this day. To the extent I was “leading” my son anywhere, it was down a path of lies—an on-ramp to psychological damage and irreversible medical interventions. All in the name of love, acceptance, and liberation.

About six months later, he told my spouse that he was a girl and wanted to be called “sister” and “she/her.” I received a text message about this at work. On the way home that night, I resolved to put all my own feelings away and support my transgender child. And that is what I did.

We told him he could be a girl. He jumped up and down on the bed, happily saying, “I’m a girl, I’m a girl!” We—not our son—initiated changing his name. We socially transitioned him and enforced this transition with his younger brother, who was then only two years old and could barely pronounce his older brother’s real name.

When I look back at this, it is almost too much to write about. How could a mother do this to her child? To her children?

Once we made this decision, we received resounding praise and affirmation from most of our peers. One of my friends, who’d also socially transitioned her young child, assured me that this was a healthy, neutral way to allow children to “explore” their gender identity before puberty, when decisions would have to be made about puberty blockers and hormones.

We sought out support groups for parents of transgender children, so that we could find out if we’d done the “right thing.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that our son hadn’t exhibited any signs of actual gender dysphoria. Was he actually transgender?

At these support groups, we were told, again, what good parents we were. We were also told that kids on the autism spectrum (which our son likely is) are gender savants who simply know they are transgender earlier than other kids.

At one of the support groups we attended, we were also told that transgender identity takes a few years to develop in children. The gender therapist running things told us that during this period, it’s important to protect the child’s transgender self-conception—which meant eliminating all contact with family or friends who didn’t support the idea that our son was a girl. I believed her.

Looking back, I now see her comments in a shockingly different light: this was part of an intentional process of concretizing transgender identity in children who are much too young to know themselves in any definitive way. (One set of parents attending the group had a child who was just three years old.) When identity is “affirmed” in this manner, children will grow up believing they are actually the opposite sex.

The therapist endorsed the same approach that many adolescents use on their parents, who are urged to write letters to grandparents, aunts, and uncles to announce the child’s transgender identity. In these letters, the conditions of continued social engagement are made clear: Recipients must use the new name and new pronouns, and embrace the new identity, or they will be denied contact with the child.

After about a year of social transition for our older son, our younger son, who was by now only three years old, began to say he was a girl, too. This came as a complete shock to us. None of the things that made our older son “different” applied to our younger son. He was more of a stereotypical boy and didn’t show the same affinity for the feminine side of things that his older brother did.

The urge for “sameness” is a primal attachment drive in many family members. We felt that our younger son’s assertion of being a girl likely reflected his desire to be like his older sibling, in order to feel connected to him.

His claim to be a girl became more insistent when both brothers went to school part-time, because their program included pronoun sharing. Why could the older sibling be a “she” when the younger sibling couldn’t? Our younger son became more insistent, and we became more distressed.

We made an appointment to see the gender therapist whom we’d met at the support group. We truly believed that she would be able to help us sort out who, if anyone, was actually transgender.

To our shock, the therapist immediately began referring to our younger son as “she,” stating that whatever pronouns a young child wants to use are the pronouns that must be used.

She patronizingly assured us that it might take us more time to adjust, since parents have a hard time with this sort of thing. She added that it was transphobic to believe there was anything wrong with our younger son wanting to be like his older transgender sibling.

When I pushed back and asserted that I wasn’t yet convinced our younger son was in fact transgender, she told me that if I failed to change his pronouns and honor his newly announced identity, he could develop an attachment disorder.

We were unconvinced. But, again, we wanted to do what was right for our son and for the world. We decided to tell him he could be a girl. And that night at dinner, we told him that we would call him “she/her.”

Right after dinner, I went to play an imaginary game with him, and I wanted to be affirming. So I put a big, warm smile on my face and said, “Hi, my girl!”

At this, my younger son stopped, looked at me, and said, “No, mama. Don’t call me that.” His reaction pierced me to my core. I didn’t turn back after that.

For the next two years, my partner and I dug deeper, agonized, and then continued digging again. Everything we thought we knew or believed that had led us to socially transition our older son began to unravel.

I continued to study the attachment-based developmental approach to parenting and learned more about autism and hypersensitivity. We decided not to socially transition our younger son. Not only was he not transgender, we now realized, but our older son probably wasn’t either.

He was just a highly sensitive, likely autistic boy who saw a girl identity as a form of psychic protection. It also provided him a way of attaching to me through sameness.

My spouse and I decided that since we’d been the ones who’d led him down this path, we were the ones who needed to lead him off of it.

A year ago, just before our older son’s eighth birthday, we did just that. And while the initial change was hard—incredibly hard—the strongest emotion exhibited by our son turned out to be relief.

In the days following my first conversation with him about going back to his birth name and pronouns, during which I told him that males cannot be females and that we were wrong to tell him he could choose to be a girl, he got very mad at me, then sad. Then, the next day, I felt my son rest. I felt him release a burden, an adult burden that he, as a child, was never meant to carry.

Since that time, we’ve all been healing. My son is now happy and thriving. We’ve watched him come to a deeper peace with himself as a boy.

Our younger son is also thriving. Once his older brother became his older brother again, he happily, and almost immediately, settled into his identity as a boy.

I feel like someone who’s escaped a cult—a cult whose belief system is supported by our mainstream culture, the Internet, and even the state.

I fear for the future—the future of sensitive, feminine, socially awkward boys. I fear what the world will tell them about who they are.

But no matter what the future holds, I will never ever stop fighting to protect my sons. I am no longer a true believer.

#gender ideology #queer theory #genderwang #gender cult #social transition #autism #social justice #critical social justice #affirmation model #gender affirming #gender affirmation #trans identity #gender identity #child psychology #religion is a mental illness

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daisyblog · 1 year

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Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson Take a Friendship Test

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson take the ultimate friendship test. From sharing their first impressions and stanning over each other to bonding over a minute-long hug and mirroring each other's sweet dance moves, these two prove that all some friendships need is lots of love and laughter. Warning: swearing

“I’m gonna ask you about your friendship with YN” A woman’s voice speaks to Niall from behind the camera. “Oh how long have ya got?” Niall sarcastically says with a small chuckle. “Who?” YN questions with a serious expression and Niall’s famous laugh is heard from behind the camera. “We met when I auditioned for The X Factor..and I was put into a band…One Direction with her brother Louis..and she came on tour with us and now we’re the best of friends” “Niall was in a band with my brother…not sure if you’ve heard of ‘em One Direction…yeah and..Niall begged me to go on tour wiv ‘em to style his hair..such a diva” YN joked whilst trying to not laugh at Niall shaking his head at her, from where he was standing behind set. “It’s because of me…she’s so famous..nothing to do with her brother or boyfriend” Niall joins in on the teasing. “Seriously now…Niall’s like a brother to me…he’s my best friend, he’s just so funny and he’s there for you no matter what and…he’s been there for me through some of my darkest times..and I’ll always be grateful to him” “YN…she’s one of the strongest people I know..even when she’s been goin’ through some tough times..she always wants to know how everyone else is and if they’re okay…she’s one in a million that girl”

Niall and YN were instructed to give each other compliments in the next part. As they're both standing opposite each other with their little notebooks and pens in their hands, Niall tries to peek at what YN is writing. “Don’t look at it” YN protests and hides her notebook away from Niall’s prying eyes. “I just wanna know how funny you’re being” Niall defends himself. “I’m not bein’ funny at all” “Yeah you fuckin’ are” Niall teases “She’s writing a massive list” Niall continues to laugh as YN flips the page over to write on another page. “I’m writin’ in big letters” “She paid me to be her friend” Niall continues with his jokes. “Yeah..yeah oh fookin’...if anyone’s payin’ anybody for anythin’..you’re givin’ me some fookin’ money” YN’s Doncaster accent is heard making Niall chuckle and continue to write on the paper in front of him. “I love your sense of humour..’cause you just laugh at everythin’ even if it’s not funny..and it makes me feel funny” YN compliments Niall.

“I like how creative you are..you’ve gone from touring with the band..to running your own business..and I’m proud of you and you should be proud of yourself” “Okay..movin’ on before I cry” YN talks “You always smell amazin’ every time I see you” “Thanks..I’ll take that one considering who you sleep next to every night smells like heaven” Niall responds making YN laugh “I love how strong and determined you are…like most people would give up..but you just keep going and I admire you for that..so yeah” Niall compliments YN again. “Aww Niall…stoooop..you’re gonna make me cry” YN playfully scolds but inside feels her heart melt at the words spoken by her best friend “I think you’re an amazin’ songwriter…and a fookin’ boss on the guitar..and I love your music” “She’s a massive Niall fan…I’ve always been her favourite” “He’s not lyin’” YN said with a flick of her hair, causing them both to laugh. Niall and YN were instructed to hug each other for one minute in the next part.

Niall wrapped his arms around YN’s shoulder whilst her arms went around his back like they had done many of times over the years. “Oh he smells greeeat” YN’s voice is heard.

“You smell good too” “Thank you” “I like your shoes too” YN begin’s to sing ‘I like the way you talk, I like the things you wear, I want your number tattooed on my arm in ink, I swear” whilst her and Niall swayed back and forth. Niall began singing the lyrics “Watermelon sugar, high, Watermelon sugar, high, Watermelon sugar high, Watermelon sugar”. YN’s giggling is heard as the pair continue to sing together “Why that song?..Of all the songs you could have chosen” Niall and YN were instructed to mirror each other’s dance moves in the next part.

Some upbeat music was heard playing, Niall starts by pointing his hand up to the ceiling and shaking his hips slightly, and YN begins to copy his movement. Niall then abruptly points to the floor and leans down, and points back up again into his starting position. Then move his fingers in a circle around his body “This is us goin’ ‘round the world”. And after a few more arm movements, jumps to the side and begins to imitate Beyonce’s Single Ladies dance. “Your turn”. YN begins to jump around laughing and shows everyone her impression of how back up dancers dance, which Niall copies her every move whilst they laugh infectiously together “Do you know wa I mean?” she asks Niall as she continues to hop around. Next, YN decides to swing her around her head and tell Niall to “Giddy up, giddy up” as they gallop around the space. “What the fuck just ‘appened?” Niall asks as YN nudges his shoulder playfully.

“Welcome to the life of being a Tomlinson” YN defends her behaviour. Niall and YN were instructed to harmonise with each other in the next part. “Do you know what’s so annoyin’…she can actually sing so this isn’t even gonna be funny” “Ahhhhhhh” Niall and YN are heard harmonising together, before harmonising happy birthday and YN made Niall laugh. “You fucked it for me” Niall laughed.

“Nobody, nobody” YN began singing and dancing at the same time.

“Nobody can drag me down” Niall joins in, before singing his own song “Nice to meet ya” “what’s ya name, let me treat ya..to a drink” Niall and YN continue to sing together whilst clapping and waving their hands. Niall and YN were instructed to perform trust falls in the next part “It’s called a trust fall” a woman’s voice behind the camera spoke. “Oh fook” and “Okay fuck” Niall and YN spoke at the same time. “What if I don’t catch you?” YN panicked. “Well..ya better help me up when I fall” Niall teased and laughed. Niall turned around so his back faced YN whilst she held her arms out ready to catch the brunette lad “Come one...come on I’ve got you” she reassure s him. Niall falls back gracefully and YN just about manages to hold him up for a couple of seconds “Okay..get up now before I drop ya”. YN prepares herself to fall into Niall’s arms as she turns her back to him “Don’t fookin’ drop me now Horan” “Just trust me will ya Mini Tommo” Niall uses her nickname from when she toured with the boys. YN delicately falls back into Niall’s arms as he catches her small frame easily in his arms. “Do you trust me?” Niall turns to ask YN as she stands back up. “I trust you with my whole fookin’ heart” “Aww come ‘ere ya softy” Niall teases as he pulls YN into his arms and squeezes her tight “She’s like the sister I never had”

“Horan and Tommo are in town” Niall and YN say together as they sway from side to side.

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney fanfictioncafe lilfreakjez jerseygirlinca iamahallucinationnn

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kasagia · 1 year

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Our little game pt. 5

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader Summary: Klaus is making a major, huge mistake of his life, for which you are paying the price. Will you be able to forgive him? Or maybe it's too late for everything. Warning(s): angst, talk about death, Klaus fights and suffers because of Mikael, family drama, blood, violence, curses, I used some famous lines from TVD and TO Word count: 6,9k

Third person's POV | 2 hours earlier

The original hybrid left the party in a hurry, loosening his tie as he practically ran towards the parking lot. His younger brother was right behind him, barely catching up with him.

"Nik! Wait a minute!" Kol screamed, grabbing his brother's elbow and stopping him halfway. He completely ignored his hostile, stern look and continued. "We need to think it over."

"All we need to do is get rid of him from our lives once and for all!"

"We can't do it alone. We need Freya…"

"Freya will never stand against him! We're on our own unless you're a coward." the man cut him off, yanking his arm out of his grip.

"Well, let's at least take Elijah…"

"I'm not going to ruin our brother's wedding day! I already killed him once; I can do it again. We have to hurry before he calls for backup. Will you help me, or should I rely on myself?" Kol sighed as he studied his brother's determined face. If they had attacked out of the blue, they might have been able to defeat him together while he was still weakened.

"All right. But we're keeping Davina out of it."

"As well as Y/N." they nodded to each other and walked hand in hand towards the parking lot.

Klaus had to do it quietly. His little witch needed a break, and a fight with the Mikaelsons' psychopathic father wouldn't help her at all (or convince the woman to stay in New Orleans much longer than she planned). Elijah deserved a respite from his problems, and so did Rebekah. Nor could he rely on Freya's strength and power forever. After all, she wasn't immortal like them; she had her limits like any witch. Kol and he had to deal with it on their own. For everyone's sake.

"Do you even know how he managed to get back to the surface of the earth? I thought you killed him for good last time."

"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are."

"You think it's the mother's work? She has regained her powers and is resurrecting all our enemies from the other side?"

"You tell me. You spent a few months there before we finally begged your witch to help us bring you back. What were our parents' moods?"

"You know, I tried not to get too close to them. But I met your father; he's actually a nice guy."

"What did you say?" he asked in shock, staring at his brother in pure surprise.

"Yeah, I was surprised too when he saved me from Mikael and introduced himself as your dad. We had a bit of a fight at first, but he turned out to be a good guy."

"You met… my father."

"Maybe it's not a good time, but I think you should know that. If he somehow magically appears here, and I'm pretty sure he'll do it; he's said many times that he'll get the fuck out of here as soon as he gets a chance, you shouldn't hurt him. Hope deserves at least one normal grandpa. Ansel would be a good fit for this; he was babbling about her all the time, and my head was bursting as he raved about her. You know I love her, but how much can you talk about a baby? Hey? Nik?" he shook his brother's shoulder as he sat silently in the driver's seat, not bothering to start the car.

"How did he know about Hope?"

"He's been keeping an eye on you since… you know. He probably knows everything about you, which is actually as scary as it is cute."

Klaus continued to listen to Kol's story in silence. As he drove the car, he pondered the new message. His father watched over him.

His real father.

The one who supposedly abandoned him and didn't care for him...

Could that be true?

Could he believe it?

Allowing himself to live a boyish fantasy of having a father who truly cares for him? He could believe that Esther would be able to lie to him about his real father's feelings toward him, and it was hardly possible that Kol could be so cruel. So, could Klaus have been so lucky after all?

Could he have had the love of his true father, the beloved daughter who was the light in his dark life, and the love and devotion of a woman he wanted more than anything in this world?

Could Klaus, after so many years of pain, sorrow, and fury, be given such enormous blessings?

He found out a few hours later.

He found out a few hours later, when he and Kol were returning as fast as they could to their family after Mikael nearly killed them two. However, it wasn't just the two of them in the car on their way back...

~•♤♤♤•~

"Father! Come, come wherever you are!"

It was supposed to go fast and smoothly. Klaus was supposed to act as bait (after arguing with Kol for several hours, they played paper, rock, scissors, and he lost… 10 times), and Kol was meant to heroically step in with a white oak stake and try to kill their father.

Piece of cake. Nothing possible could go wrong.

But it did. Very, very quickly.

They underestimated Mikael's ability to win people over. While Klaus was able to single-handedly take down his father's band of minions and come out of the fight uninjured, the fight against Mikael proved to be more of a challenge. Especially since he had a bit of an advantage over them...

"You're alone, boy? Did your siblings finally abandon you?"

"Don't worry about them. I don't need anyone else to help me send you back to hell."

"Very courage from your side to assume you can kill me all alone. Or stupid. I think the second one suits you much better. You didn't change at all, Niklaus. Thousand years, and you're still a quick-tempered, impulsive boy seeking the approval of others. I guess you've never learned from your mistakes. But it's even better for me. It'll be so easy to finally end your miserable life."

"Thousand years of trying, and you were never close enough. What makes you sure this time will be different?"

"This time, I know your weakness." Klaus' heart stopped for a moment in fear. He couldn't talk about Hope. His daughter was safe with Hayley, the pack, surrounded by Freya and Y/N with all sorts of protective spells.

"I don't have any."

"Don't you?" he looked at him carefully with a sinister smirk on his lips. "Then let me remind you. The blonde one, powerful witch you've met not so long ago. Y/N, right? Her blood must taste ambrosial with such magic running through her veins. She would make such a beautiful corpse, don't you think? "Klaus' composure dropped to zero, and his and Kol's plan went to hell. No one will threaten his witch, especially Mikael.

Without thinking, he lunged at the man, trying to punch him in the face. Mikael braced for his outburst, grabbed his fist, and twisted his arm. Klaus shouted, twisting his hand out of his grip, and pushing him to the boxes behind him. Mikael staggered, trying to regain his balance. The hybrid took advantage of this by throwing a metal rod at him and speeding towards him with the intention of snapping his neck. The older man grabbed the object flying towards him, pierced Klaus' side, and pushed, sending him crashing to the floor.

Klaus pulled the metal out of his body, but the wound on his side wouldn't heal. Suddenly he felt as if his whole body was on fire; every nerve in his body shot through with unimaginable pain. He felt as if his mother had put a curse on him, cutting him off from his werewolf side.

Suddenly, a circle of fire formed around him, and none other than the mother of the originals emerged from the shadows, muttering a familiar spell that began the 1,000-year search for the doppelgänger and the moonstone. Panic rose in him, along with the pain he felt.

NO! He couldn't go through it again!

"Who'll fight for you now, boy?!" Mikael shouted, walking slowly over to him and pulling a white oak stake from his coat pocket, patiently waiting for his wife to finish her spell and get rid of her unwanted son from their lives once and for all.

"I will." Kol stepped out of the shadows, pushing his father away from the circle where his older brother was trapped. Mikael laughed, looking at his son with contempt.

"I was wondering which of you would come to rescue this abomination. I never expected you'd be the first one to protect him. Wasn't he the one who locked you in a coffin for centuries? Will you defend him after what he did to you? You know best of all what he's capable of. Don't you want revenge? To see him suffer for all his sins against you? Join us, my son. Let's do justice to him together."

"Forgive me, father. I'm not on the retirement team." Mikael's smirk fell, and an ominous, dark look returned in its place.

"So you will watch your failure."

Mikael threw himself at his son in an instant, overpowering him. He turned his back to him and clamped his hand around his neck, forcing him to watch as his brother writhed on the floor in pain, occasionally getting close enough to the fire to sear him. Kol shuddered.

"In a moment, your mother will finish reciting the spell, and your treacherous brother will become nothing but a vampire again, and then... I will pierce him through before your eyes, son, so that you will remember once and for all how those who oppose me end up. Maybe then you'll join us."

"I'd rather die." Kol growled, trying to wriggle out of his father's grip.

"So you will."

And then, when everything seemed over for the two siblings and all hope of survival was lost, the appearance of one person changed the fate of the originals.

Suddenly, a wooden bolt shot out of the darkness of the building and pierced Esther's stomach, causing her to break her spell. The woman fell to the floor, screaming. Another wooden stake flew towards Mikael, who was forced to let go of Kol and catch the flying piece of wood before it hit him.

Klaus stopped shaking in pain, taking quick, heavy breaths. He used his remaining strength to look at his savior.

It couldn't be true…

"Get away from my son!"

Ansel jumped off the container, falling right in front of Klaus and shielding him with his own body. He held his crossbow high, aiming it at an angry Mikael. Kol stood beside him, handing him a white oak stake, which Mikael dropped and took out their weapons himself.

"I've already killed you once!"

"And I can already tell you that this time the ending will be different. Now, get out of here, or I will skin you for what you have done to MY SON."

"What can you do to me?! I'm a vampire, the original! Some weak werewolf can't kill me!"

"Be careful. That weak werewolf has many friends, and some of them..." Mikael and Esther cried out in pain as they fell to their knees on the floor. "Are very powerful witches. Touch my son again, and I'll kill you right away, without a blink. But for all of this, you've already done to him..." more bolts fired from his crossbow, wounding the parents of the originals. Most of them were aimed at the seething with anger Mikael.

"Kol. Take your brother out. I'll join you in a second."

"Are you sure, old man?"

"Yes. Just give me a few seconds." Kol nodded uncertainly to him, not wanting to leave Ansel alone with his parents at all. But the younger original carefully took his exhausted brother into his arms and carried him outside at vampire speed.

The werewolf took a few steps towards the kneeling two, firing the few bolts he had left at the man. Esther screamed shrilly beside them as the witches continued to torture her with their magic.

"I'll make sure you suffer in ways even your cruel, psychopathic mind can't imagine and believe me... a thousand years on the other side teaches great creativity and patience, Mikael." Ansel drove one of the stakes through Esther's heart and watched with satisfaction as the woman who had kept his only son away from him fell to the floor dead. "He'll suffer one more time because of you, and I'll make sure you don't get any peace even on the other side. I hope you understand."

"This whore of his will die before he gets to her! You won't protect him from that."

"We'll see. Again, please!" Mikael howled louder in pain as the witches strengthened their attack. Ansel smiled slightly.

Ansel left the warehouse, leaving the vampire writhing in pain behind him. He had more important things on his mind than torturing him. His son needed him, and he wasn't going to spend a single minute doing anything other than helping him.

After all, family was the most important thing. For always and forever.

~•♤♤♤•~

Kol drove the car, watching the two men in the back seat in the mirror. Ansel told him to get back to their siblings as soon as possible, especially Y/N.

The original had already learned on the other side that it was better to follow his orders. Ansel usually knew what he was doing, and after saving Kol countless times, he had the younger vampire's full trust.

Klaus could be a little more like him.

"What are you laughing at there, jester?" Ansel asked, looking up from his sleeping son and noticing the smirk on Mikaelson's face.

"Don't get offended, but he is nothing like you."

"I know, and I'm proud of him. He's his own person."

"Elijah will be delighted when you tell him that. Another believer in Nik's redemption."

"He is my son. Of course I believe in him and want the best for him." Kol's face morosed as he remembered how, just an hour ago, his father had tried to kill him and nearly ended his brother's life. "Don't make such a face. He is not your father. No father would make his child suffer. He doesn't deserve your attention, thoughts, or anything."

"But he's right about one thing. We are monsters."

"No. You're all lost. You may be a thousand years old, but really you are like children who have not been taught how to be adults. You know no other way to deal with your emotions than to succumb to this bloodlust. The worst of all is that you've allowed yourselves to be told that you are monsters when everything you do is out of your will to survive or strong feelings."

"A living ticking time bomb, eh?"

"If that's what you want to call it." Ansel murmured, shifting his gaze to his only son. Kol glanced at the two men in a car mirror.

Klaus will be damn surprised to see such a caring and tender look in his biological father's eyes. But he deserved it. After everything Miakel and Esther had put him through—what they all went through because of their parents—they deserved a normal, healthy relationship.

Kol would give anything to have someone like a werewolf for a dad.

"He needs you. Don't fuck it up." instead of admitting this childish desire to himself, he decided to warn Klaus' father.

"I'm not going to waste my chance, Kol. This is rarely: to come back from the other side."

"I'm still going to keep my eye on you. Especially around Hope."

"I would expect nothing less from you."

"Good. Wake up our princess. We're almost there."

~•♤♤♤•~

They expected it to be hard. Some hidden group of vampires and witches ready to attack at any moment, maybe a few deadly traps await them.

They wouldn't have expected the house to go up in flames. Vampires didn't usually die from fire... but humans did.

Klaus got out of the car the moment he saw the burning building. He didn't care that Kol hadn't stopped the car yet or that his newly found father was sitting right next to him.

All the original hybrid had on his mind was getting to Y/N as fast as he could.

He screamed her name and ran like a madman through the collapsing house. She had to be around here somewhere, unless she evacuated. The man did not allow even the slightest thought that his beloved could be trapped in the building, dead from the fire. He had to find her, lock her in a safe place, defeat Mikael, and return to his love, only to finally reveal his feelings to her and keep her with him where she belonged. There was no other way out of this situation.

However, Klaus, despite his best efforts, found someone completely different.

Katherine Pierce-Mikaelson lay unconscious among the collapsing ruins of the hall. Klaus stopped. Dark thoughts flooded his mind. How easy it would be to leave her here once and for all and let some stray plank fall and pierce her stoned heart. He shook his head.

Whether he wanted it or not, she was part of the family now. And he never left them behind. (Also, Y/N wouldn't approve of him leaving her friend to die. Elijah wouldn't be too pleased either.)

He took her in his arms and carried her out of the building. He laid her down on the grass, checking to see if she was injured.

"NIKLAUS! KATERINA!" Klaus raised his head, turning his gaze to his brother, who was running towards them. "Is she okay?! Where is Kol?! KOL?!" the elder brother rushed home after making sure his wife and Klaus were okay.

The hybrid caught up with him and grabbed his jacket, stopping him from entering the building.

"He is fine. Have you seen Y/N?" Elijah fell silent, looking away from his younger brother. Klaus grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes. "WHERE IS Y/N?!" he shouted, shaking him.

"Niklaus..." the hybrid didn't even bother to listen to him.

He let go of the lapels of his jacket and ran towards the collapsing building, but before he could get close to the fire, his brother caught him. Klaus tried to break free from his grip. They both fell to the ground, fighting until the younger original snapped the older's neck.

"NIK!" his sister's scream stopped him from going home again, he ran towards her. Rage and fear shone in his eyes.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" he shouted at the jittery blonde. He had to get to Y/N, and his sister's tearful, devastated face didn't show she was safe. His anxiety and panic only increased as he searched Rebekah's eyes for any answer.

"She... she is in our house." Klaus had never felt such need and blissful relief flood him so quickly. Unfortunately, it left him as fast as it came. "She is in transition."

The original froze. He felt as if the whole world stopped around him for a moment. The one thing Klaus wasn't sure how Y/N would take in their (then very likely) future relationship was her possible transformation into a vampire. Now that it was actually happening, Klaus worried what his beloved's reaction would be.

"What? But... how?"

"Our father's minions attacked the building. Elijah and I managed to escape in time and evacuate Freya. Katherine was supposed to join us with Y/N, but they never showed up. We went back into the building and found her with a metal rod in her chest. We thought she was dead, but Freya did some weird tricks on her, and it turned out she had vampire blood in her system. Your blood, Nik. I'm so sorry."

"They attacked Katerina. They snapped her neck when she tried to help Y/N. We need to find them and Mikael. They will die for what they did." he growled, preparing a very savage plan of attack in his head.

He would destroy those who hurt his love. They will be begging him to send them to hell quickly.

"Klaus! You knew that, right? That our father returned. Is that why you disappeared with Kol? You went to kill him on your own and you lost. You provoked him, so now it's our fault that Y/N is dead."

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY PLANS WERE!" he shouted furiously. Rebekah had no right to say that when all he was doing was trying to protect Y/N and his family.

"THAT'S THE PROBLEM, NIK, IT'S ALWAYS YOUR PLANS AND NEVER OURS! And now Y/N is dead and it's all your fault!"

"SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE WILL BE WITH US FOREVER AFTER TURNING INTO A VAMPIRE!"

"SHE WILL NEVER FEED!"

Her sudden statement restored complete silence, broken only by the sound of the burning house. Klaus quickly came to the conclusion that the sound of the fire burning in the fireplace, instead of bringing him relief and peace as before, would become the cause of his anxiety, a memory of the fear and horror he felt today. Another trauma for the collection.

"What?"

"She won't be one of us. She will die, Nik, and you will have the blood on your hands of the only person who has ever truly loved you."

"YOU'RE LIAR! SHE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME!" he shouted, feeling the tears start to gather dangerously in his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

Klaus screamed, rushing furiously at his sister, but a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Be calm, son. Don't do something you'll regret. We'll go in turn. We'll kill Miakel first and then deal with Y/N, right?"

"And who the bloody hell are you?" Rebekah asked, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. Especially when her brother hadn't ripped his arm off or maimed him after he touched him.

"Rebekah, this is my father... Rebekah!" Klaus screamed as the blonde vampire walked over to the older man and slapped him across the face.

"It's okay, Niklaus. I think I deserved it." Ansel groaned in pain, clutching his sore cheek.

"What do you want from him?" she growled, shielding her brother from him with her body. The Mikaelsons' experience had taught them to be careful in their dealings with their parents. They didn't have a very good experience. Klaus, on the other hand, rolled his eyes at his sister's protectiveness. If Ansel wanted to hurt him, he would have done so long ago; he certainly wouldn't have saved him from the clutches of death. Which didn't mean he trusted his father. He would have to deserve it and prove his good intentions to the sibling.

"I want to protect him. He's my son."

Klaus' heart beat faster. His son. It had been a long time since anyone had said that about him (he doubted he'd ever heard those words spoken with such pride and feeling). After all, Klaus wasn't made of stone. He could pretend his father's attitude didn't bother him, but he guessed they all knew how it affected the cruel hybrid. But before their big family meeting about Ansel could take place, they had to defeat their parents. And nothing unites and strengthens family bonds like hunting down their enemies.

"I threw the newlyweds in the car! If you've finished this dramatic scene, get your ass to the car before we all burn up from this fire, behind you, idiots!"

Maybe Klaus would have taken his father into the family after all. He would make a great replacement for his annoying little brother...

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N's POV

I groaned as I slowly began to regain consciousness.

My head was bursting like hell, my throat felt like a desert, and the lights of the New Orelan lanterns that flooded into the room blinded me, causing me additional pain.

I felt like I had a huge, unforgettable hangover.

However, I don't remember much from last night. I guess I got drunk at the wedding faster than I thought and ended up in Klaus' bedroom again. At least he cleaned up after our recent… activities.

I slowly got out of bed. The world seemed to spin in my head. I closed my eyes, trying to compose myself. Suddenly, I heard an awfully loud jazz band playing in the streets of New Orleans. I swallowed, wondering who normal plays at night under other people's windows.

Someone entered the house with a bang, slamming the door mercilessly behind them. I hissed, clutching my throbbing head in pain. I've never had such a big hangover in my life.

Klaus came in covered in blood. Instantly, I felt the excitement flooding into my body, and my tongue moved to wet my chapped lips. I felt hotter in the room. My god, I fucked him only 24 hours ago, I couldn't be such a whore to him.

"Y/N." he sighed, standing stunned in the doorway. Well, he probably wasn't expecting me in his bedroom again.

"After all the noise outside, I can tell you didn't get rid of those musicians after all. Who did you fight? And please don't tell me it was Elijah." I asked, trying to control my sudden and unexpected turning on by the hybrid in the blood. Fucking hormones before a period.

"Noise?"

"Do not change the subject. With your super-hearing, there's no way you can't hear it." the man gave me a concerned look as he approached me. "Okay, I'm starting to worry. What happened to you?"

"Y/N..." he whispered, reaching for me, but I took a step away from him and wrinkled my nose.

"There's no way I'm letting you hug me or even touch me when you're covered in blood. Know my good heart, I'll clean you." I made a familiar flick of my wrist, but to my surprise, nothing happened… my magic didn't even move in my veins. I tried again, but nothing happened. I transferred my annoyed, hostile gaze to the original. What right did he have to lock me up in his house and block access to my magic?! "What the hell have you done to my magic?! Why did you keep it from me?! What kind of game are you playing right now?!"

"Y/N, I need you to calm down..."

"DON'T TOUCH ME! What did you do to me?! Why can't I feel my power?!"

"I'm so sorry, love."

"No… you can't just imply that… No." I shook my head in disbelief, unable to accept what he was trying to tell me. He must have been making cruel fun of me. But his painful, worried expression indicated otherwise.

"You're in a transition, Y/N."

"No, no, no. I can't! I didn't even drink a vampire's blood or die!"

"You drank from me last night, and today at the wedding, my father's minions disrupted the party. They started a fire and…"

"NO! You're lying! I can't be a vampire!"

"Y/N, please just listen to me..." he took a step towards me, but I backed away from him in panic, afraid to be so close to the man covered in blood... I could smell the wonderful, intoxicating smell of the red liquid on him.

"DON'T come closer. It is impossible. Are you playing some sick game, or is that some fucking plan of yours? A way to get me stuck here?"

"You think I'd stoop so low that I could do something like that to you? One of the few people I care about more than myself?!"

"You tell me. I don't know you."

"Do you really want to argue the same thing over and over again? When do we both know the truth?"

"I'm in transition, I'm scared, I'm angry, and I feel like my whole body is on fire with pain, and you're still able to bring everything back to our fucked-up relationship? You are an unbelievable narcistic psycho."

"Well, I know a very simple solution to your problems." he walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, leaving a bloodstain on the wood. He turned back to me, tossing me a bag of blood. "Drink."

"Are you crazy?! I'm not going to turn into that bloodthirsty thing that you are!"

"I've never heard such a beautiful compliment, love. Now. Drink. Before I pour it down your throat."

"You can't fucking make me!" I screamed, throwing a bag against the wall, which wasn't a good idea at all as its contents started to run down the wall, creating a small puddle on the floor. My gums involuntarily itched. My stomach rumbled as the delicious smell of fresh blood hit my nostrils.

I closed my eyes, sighing as I tried to control the overwhelming hunger. Klaus took advantage of my moment of weakness, coming over to me and enclosing me in a tight, strong hug. The smell of blood that covered him attacked my senses.

It was funny how his arms were both the only place that could bring me peace and make me fearful of the inner need caused by the vampire blood in my system.

"I can see how you are struggling and how persistently you are trying to overcome it. But why fight it? Why when you can get so much? Have you ever thought about the benefits of being a vampire? Your lovely, pretty face will never age a day, being able to dazzle others with its unimaginable beauty forever. All human diseases and ailments will disappear. You will be able to enjoy eternal life, discovering the mysteries and wonders of this world, even if not with me by your side, then with someone who will worship you until the end of this world. All you have to do is drink some blood and let us take care of you until you learn to control yourself. Is that such a big price to pay for eternal life?" he let me pull away from him a little so I could look into his eyes as he held me tight, desperately trying to convince me to stay alive.

"Who said it would be a happy life? That I'll learn to control myself and not go crazy or become a ripper? That I won't come back covered in the innocent blood of humans every night like you?"

"I must admit I'm a little offended, but I won't blame you for making such vicious accusations against me." he said it in such a tone that I laughed involuntarily, bringing a tender smile to his face. He could always make me laugh, even in the darkest of times. "It's the blood of Mikael and his minions; they definitely weren't innocent, love. Besides, I know you. You will not attack an ordinary man for your own pleasure. And even if you want to, I'll make sure you don't do anything stupid."

I got out of his grip, walking away from him to a safe distance. I might have been in transition, but of the two of us, the man was still the more impetuous. His reaction to my final decision may vary, and I prefer not to risk an untimely death by suffocation.

Besides, Klaus would never forgive himself for that.

"I can't, Nik. I won't feed." his calm facade dropped, and the desperation in his eyes and fear became more evident.

"Y/N just listen to me..."

"It seems like the only fair way out, you know? I helped you plan that stupid wedding; now, at least, you can return the favor by giving me a big, epic funeral."

"Don't even joke like that."

"You know, when Bonnie became sort of an anchor for dead supernaturals to find their way to peace or whatever it is, I couldn't believe at first that the dead actually went somewhere. It seems logical that after you've lived so many years with all these super powers, you just… die. No special effects, no second life, or another reality where there are other dead people. Now, I wish I believed in an afterlife, but I just don't buy this peace story."

"Vampirism is by definition an afterlife."

"I'd rather go into the unknown than live in pain." as if on cue, a sudden, painful spasm seized the left half of my body, causing me to double up... I thought I was beginning to decay from the inside out.

Klaus was near me in no time, holding me up. Fear and despair were painted on his face so clearly that I had to look away from him to chase away the remorse.

"The longer you wait, the more you'll suffer."

"Yeah. I think it's better this way. I mean, look at me. I'm gonna make a super-hot corpse. Perfect for an open casket..."

"Y/N."

"I want a huge party. Everyone has to drink themselves into oblivion and reminisce about all the happy times, funny jokes, or God knows what else. And don't let Kol officiate my funeral, because he'll definitely bring up that stupid story about drunk me flirting with you in a wedding dress or that you were my last fu..."

"STOP IT!" he shouted, interrupting me."I'll not entertain this kind of talk any longer. You must feed. I need you." he growled, glaring at me madly as if that had ever impressed me or worked on me.

He wanted a furious lovers quarrel? Here we go, I'll give him a fucking, last argument.

"This is not about you, this is about me! I liked who I was! I've spent my entire life being that exact version of myself! Years of hard practice and experimentation with my magic went for nothing. I'm nothing! I will never be who I used to be. It is better if I die as someone I'm proud of than live as someone I despise!"

"NO! It is better to live a flawed life than to waste it rotting in clay!"

"But that's not your decision to make." I whispered with tears in my eyes.

He thought I wanted to die? Leaving the love of my life when our story was just beginning? That I didn't want that fucking fairytale ending where the princess got her prince charming?

But I was never a Cinderella, and Klaus was no cut-off to be a prince on a white horse. And we had to accept this.

"Y/N..."

"I HAVE NOTHING, KLAUS! Without my magic, I am a meaningless shell of my former self. I will always be just a shadow of the person I used to be, unable to cast even the simplest spell or feel the fucking energy of plants! My immortal life will be one big void that nothing can fill!" I walked over to him, taking his hands. I didn't want him to leave. Since I was about to die, I didn't want to do it alone. But I knew full well that he wouldn't stay with me to watch me die, because if I were in his place, I wouldn't be able to watch him go away forever either. "I don't want to live like this, Nik. I can't stand such a pain, and certainly nothing is worth it."

"If you want to go back to the arms of death so badly, I won't stop you. I only hope the bugs will eat your rotten body soon, love." he growled, pulling his hand out of my grip, and he stormed out of the room.

"Klaus! Wait!" I shouted after him, trying to take a step towards the door, but I was too weak to move. I slumped to the ground, letting all my heightened emotions come to light and burst into tears as I listened as the hybrid left the house, slamming the door angrily.

This wasn't how it was all supposed to be.

Everything was meant to fall into place after the wedding, but my life was coming to an inexorable end, and my epic true love left me alone and ran away, hurt by my refusal to accept eternal life by his side.

Suddenly, I felt arms pull me into a comforting, firm embrace as someone began to stroke my hair reassuringly. I looked up. It was Klaus' father.

Klaus told me about it several times and even showed me one of the most traumatic memories for him—finding his biological father, pierced through and through by Mikael's sword. I spent half the night with him then, trying to distract his mind from his memories about his true origin.

Apparently, Ansel must have returned with the parents of the originals. He must have trusted him to let him into his mansion.

"All right. He will calm down a bit and come back to you, darling. He will not waste the last hours with his beloved on pointless wandering in anger around the city."

"I... don't want to hurt him. I just can't... I... was never supposed to become... It's all so fucked up." I sobbed, letting Ansel move me to Klaus' bed, so we were sitting next to each other.

"Try to understand him. The love of his life is dying, and while he could shove blood down your throat and save you, he can't do anything without your permission. He's powerless, and that's one of the few feelings my son doesn't take well."

"I don't think I can do it, Ansel. I don't want to be a vampire, but… I want him to be okay. He finally has some happiness and peace in his life, and I'm taking that away from him, making him unhappy again. If only I could turn back time and…"

"And do what? Never met him?"

"That would be best for him and his family."

"I think my son knows what's best for him. And I think..." he got out of bed, rolled up the carpet to get to the floorboards, and pulled out one board. He put his hand into the hole and pulled out a huge bundle of papers. He put everything back in its place and came over to me, handing me the package. "He discovered it himself a long time ago."

"What is it?" I asked, wiping tears from my cheeks, and (after wiping my hands on my dress) I took it from him.

"Something for you. Ah, these postmen! They always lose something or don't deliver it on time, don't they? I'll leave you with that for a while. I'll make sure you have some privacy." Klaus' father went out of the room, closing a door behind him.

A werewolf left me with the strange envelopes alone.

I looked at them distrustfully, not certain if I really wanted to open them. But my innate curiosity made me ask myself one important question all the time.

What was in them?

With trembling hands, I opened the first sealed envelope.

I'd recognize Klaus' practiced, beautiful handwriting anywhere. It's been haunting me since he sent me an invitation to Mikaelson's ball. After every little note he gave me, I could tell I was an expert at his refined handwriting. Thanks to this little obsession, after the first glance at the letter, I knew it was written by him.

Y/N, I have to admit, I'm a little offended that you're not answering my calls. Are you so busy with Mystic Falls stuff that you don't have time for old friends? It'd be nice to know you're alive, Klaus

My malicious witch, my nuisance, It's really awful of you to torment my poor soul. What have I done to deserve such a cold shoulder? Have your little friends turned you against me? If Rebekah and Katherine deserve weekly video calls, what do I have to do to have the honor of hearing your irritating voice? Stop with that attitude, or I'll show up in this musty hole myself, Klaus

A thorn in my side, a waking nightmare, I see you're ignoring me on purpose. I have to admit, I didn't expect such a game from you, but here you go. Want to play games? Expect me to be a willing participant. Let the best win, Klaus

My stupid little witch, Heretics will no longer bother you. Do not thank me. Put your life in danger for these morons one more time, and you will know my wrath, Klaus

My little tormentor, Have you cast a spell on me to think about you every night? Does this possession make me see you everywhere I go, only to be disappointed when I reach a person who is not you? Is this another one of your new tricks? Making me miss you awake and asleep? I swear I'll draw you into your own trap, Klaus

My lovely witch and the sweet bane of my existence, You win. I love you. Truly, madly, deeply. I dare you to come to me and get your price. Yours, Klaus

If it was possible, I cried more than before. Why now? Why didn't I find all these letters sooner? If only I had known about the letters sooner, now at least I would have had something to remember on the other side.

But the most important question was, did I really want to go to the other side, now?

215 notes · View notes

mouschiwrites · 7 months

Note

Can you please do a Lloyd X reader it revealed that the reader is half dragon and not only that but is a princess she never told anyone because she doesn't want them to be involved with it but they find out when the reader family asked the reader to come home for a party and the reader decided to finally tell them in the form of a letter and of course they are shocked many Lloyd but the reader does say why she never told them in the letter and they all decided to go to the party and there they see the reader again and Lloyd just falls in love with the reader allover again after seeing the reader in her half dragon form and she takes Lloyd to her room and tells Lloyd more about herself (this part is your choice but the reader reveals that she is immortal do to being half dragon and she tells Lloyd that because he is both half Oni and half dragon he's immortal to) and then the party starts then the reader and Lloyd just dance the night away and the reader parents embarrass the reader Infront of Lloyd and they allow him to date the reader (this part is also your choice the reader parents ask that Lloyd and his dad be in there Oni forms for the party if you're wondering in this au Garamond didn't sacrifice himself instead skylor was the one that was sacrifice and Garamond still has his Oni form but he doesn't use it alot he mainly in his human form and Lloyd has full control over his Oni form and this is just pure fluff especially at the end)

Sorry this took a bit!!

Word count: 1.4k

Ninjago - Lloyd and the Dragon Princess at a Ball

Lloyd sifted through the mail, sighing boredly as he sorted it into different piles. “Jay, Jay, one for Cole, another for Jay… one for Kai…”

He stopped when a bright pink envelope caught his eye. He didn’t need the delicate gold wax seal to tell him it was important; your name on the back was more than enough for him to determine its priority. Dropping the rest of the mail, he fumbled to open the envelope with a giddy grin on his face.

The others forgot their own mail, intrigued by Lloyd’s reaction. They stood up and crowded behind him, trying to get a glimpse at what the letter said.

“It’s from Y/n!” Jay observed gleefully.

A few weeks ago you’d been called away on a mysterious mission that you refused to disclose, and you hadn’t contacted any of them since. So, naturally, it was exciting to hear from you at last.

My dearest friends,

I’m sorry that I had to leave so abruptly, but my parents beckoned me home for our annual royal festival. I would’ve declined, but as a princess it would be disgraceful if I did not attend.

I thought that it might be a little less boring if you all were there, though, so I wanted to formally invite you to the annual Royal Ryumura Bash. I’ve included invitations for all of you. I’d love it if you could come, but don’t feel pressured.

With love,

Princess Y/n of Ryumura

“Sounds fun,” Lloyd concluded, setting the letter aside to look at the invitations.

“Woah, are you just going to ignore all that?!” Jay pounced on the letter, scrutinizing it with wide eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“Ignore what?” Then, remembering that you had kept certain things secret from the others, Lloyd grimaced. “Oh, right. Yeah, Y/n is a princess.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Cole asked, befuddled.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Zane corrected.

“It’s a part of her life that she prefers to keep to herself, but sometimes…”

“It’s hard to stay away from home,” Nya finished for him, taking an invitation from his hand and examining it admiringly. “We should definitely go.”

Lloyd nodded eagerly. The mere thought of seeing you again was enough to get him on board. Though he wondered what he should wear to such an event…

“Why are there dragons everywhere?” Kai looked around in bewilderment. Roaming the streets of Ryumura, it was impossible to go anywhere without seeing at least one citizen in their dragon form.

“Ryumura is also known as ‘the dragon kingdom.’ Most citizens here are descendants of an ancient race of dragons, and they have the ability to shapeshift between a dragon form and a more human-like form,” Zane explained.

If they weren’t already impressed by the massive dragons filling the sky, the castle would’ve done it. Tall and intricate, with towering spires of fine stone reaching high into the heavens, it was truly an architectural marvel.

Two gigantic dragonic guards halted the group at the gates. When they explained that they were here by your invitation, the guards’ gargoyle-like faces visibly softened, and they stepped aside, motioning the group inside.

From there a much shorter servant boy guided them through the maze of tall corridors and up the spiraling stairs to your room. He knocked somewhat sheepishly on the heavy mahogany door, waiting for your beckon to let your guests inside.

“Come in,” you called after a moment.

The boy pushed the intricately carved door inward, revealing your lavish bedroom. Silk and velvet draped the area abundantly, providing an atmosphere at once cozy and luxurious. You were seated at an ivory vanity, fiddling with a delicate hairstyle adorned with many expensive hairpieces.

You stopped your work when you peeked over your shoulder and identified your visitors. Practically leaping out of your chair, you hurried over to them, beaming with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

You could see that your friends were speechless, which you couldn’t fault them for. They’d never seen you in this form, after all. You’d probably be surprised too if you saw one of them as you stood before them now; several inches taller, with horns protruding from either side of your head, a tail poking out from beneath the bottom hem of your dress, and long but neatly manicured claws where short nails once were.

You smiled awkwardly as your friends bursted into a flurry of fawning over your features. At least they’re not freaked out, you told yourself.

When they had gotten their fill of pokes and touches, Jay was the first to speak.

“Why didn’t you tell us you live in this awesome castle?!”

You blushed. “Well… I prefer to keep this side of my life separate from the rest of my life. I guess you could say I’m more of a part-time princess,” then, muttering, you added: “It’s sort of a nuisance, all these pointless luxuries and parties…”

“Well, as an apology gift I want a tour.”

“Of course! I can get a servant to take you while I finish getting ready.”

Before you had even finished speaking, a servant was in your doorway, ready to take the guests away. Was he just waiting outside my room? Another reason I hate being royal: no privacy… You clicked your tongue in exasperation as you watched your friends pour out of the room. But Lloyd, you noticed, remained where he stood.

You looked at him curiously. He looked at you back, a gentle smile on his face. His eyes were filled with adoration as they flicked from your horns to your claws, which he took gingerly into his hands to examine more closely. He looked up into your eyes, brushed his thumb over your knuckles. There was a faint pink flush on his cheeks; you felt a similar hue make its way onto yours.

“What?” You said, flustered.

“You’re beautiful.”

You looked down, a girlish smile tugging on the ends of your mouth. “You think so?”

“I do. And I’d be honored,” Lloyd stepped back, bowing formally and holding out his hand, “if you’d permit me to escort you to the ball tonight.”

You giggled, placing your hand in his. “The honor would be all mine. But only in your Oni form.”

He looked up, surprised. Then, smiling, he gave a single nod. “Quite the couple we’ll make.”

“Just two young immortals,” you sighed with theatrical dreaminess, smirking when Lloyd’s brows raised.

“You’re immortal?”

“One of my dragonic traits,” you nodded.

“Two young immortals,” he repeated under his breath, thinking to himself how perfect you were together. If he didn’t believe it before, he certainly did now.

The ball commenced at sundown. As promised, Lloyd escorted you to the outdoor venue in his Oni form. You attracted many eyes as you danced together, but neither of you noticed. Your eyes were locked in an enchanted gaze, soft smiles stuck on your faces.

Your trance was broken when your father appeared suddenly behind Lloyd, clapping his massive clawed hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“So!” He boomed in his deep voice, “This is the boy my daughter’s been telling me about! Well, you’re a lot taller than I imagined.”

Lloyd, perking up at the opportunity to finally meet his love’s parents, shook your father’s hand firmly. “It’s good to meet you, sir—”

“That’s your majesty to you, boy,” your father spat, jerking his hand back. Then, after soaking in Lloyd’s mortified expression for a moment, he burst into laughter. “Your face! I got you, didn’t I?”

“Dad,” you chided, though you couldn’t suppress your own amused smile.

“What? Can’t I poke a little fun at my future son-in-law?”

“Dad!” you shouted, feeling your face darken several shades at once.

“Oh, stop it, dear,” your mother said, appearing at your father’s side. She looped her slender arm through his. She stood on her tiptoes to murmur into his ear, but she made sure she was loud enough for you to hear anyway. “Can’t you see you’re embarrassing her in front of her beau?”

“Not you too, mom!” You clapped your hands over your face.

Your parents walked away, cackling, satisfied with the carnage they’d left in their wake. You wanted to sink through the floor.

“Think I made a good impression?” Lloyd asked, pulling you partially from your despair.

“You did fine,” you reassured him. “I’m more worried about their impression on you.”

Lloyd laughed, taking your hands in his. “I think they’re great. I’m glad they’re okay with me dating you.”

You smiled. Lloyd always knew how to find the silver lining.

You spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, making everyone else on the dance floor jealous of the two young lovers entrapped in each other’s gaze.

Thank you for reading!! And thank you anon for your request! Take care lovelies <33

(divider by saradika)

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avengersfantasies · 8 months

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Anymore - Chapter 9

Summary: You and Bucky come to an agreement with Steve, and you decide what exactly you are.

What to expect: fluff, angst

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The three of you sat at the table. You and Bucky sat side by side while Steve sat across from you. It was going to be awkward, but the conversation needed to happen – decisions needed to be made and followed through with.

“I’m going to be there,” Steve insisted. “I’m our baby’s father.”

You nodded. “So, you and I will make the major decisions,” you said, and he nodded. “Anyone we’re with…like, Bucky, for example, will be able to make decisions when they’re with me and him.”

Steve grimaced. “Don’t really like the idea of another guy being a father to our baby.”

“We’re best friends,” Bucky reminded Steve with a scoff. “I wouldn’t do anything to undermine you.”

“What kind of decisions would you make?” Steve questioned his best friend.

Bucky shrugged, and you spoke up. “You and I would make major decisions, Steve,” you promised. “You and me will decide the name, design the nursery, make medical and school decisions until they can on their own.”

Steve nodded and exhaled, sipping his drink. “I want to come to your doctor appointments.”

“That’s fine,” you smiled softly. “I’m not going to try to keep you from being a dad.”

Steve smiled slightly, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“So…as for the uh…two of you,” Steve nervously alluded to.

Bucky grabbed your hand and gently held it beneath the table, and the two of you looked at each other. “We’re...you know.” Your heart rate sped up as Bucky spoke carefully. You shot him a sweet smile, but he never turned to look at you. “Close.”

His words broke your heart. Just when your heart was coming back together, it broke again. Close? That was it? Bucky turned to look at you and flashed you a smile, and you forced one right back at him, not wanting to cause any sort of scene at the diner.

When the three of you arrived back at the compound, Bucky tried to hold your hand on the way up to his room. Your attitude had noticeably changed back at the diner, and he was determined to figure out what had happened.

“Hey, sweetheart, --”

“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Don’t even start.”

He held his hands up and looked at you confused. “What happened?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Really?” you chuckled incredulously, walking into your bedroom. “Think about it.”

Before he could respond, you shut the door on him, not opening up when he continuously knocked. You walked over to your bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling angrily. Were you overreacting? After all, the two of you hadn’t actually discussed what exactly you were. Boyfriend and girlfriend? Friends sleeping together?

“I’m sorry.” Bucky called out from the other side of the door. “Can…Can you please just open up? We should talk about this.”

Finally, you swung the door open, your tear-stained face looking back at him.

Bucky felt his heart shatter at the sight. The last thing in the world that he wanted was to make you cry.

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, his eyes filling with tears. Gently, he held your face in his hands. “Baby girl…I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked him softly.

He looked down and held your hands, kissing them and looking at you with his beautiful eyes. “I should’ve just told him what we were,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have –”

“What are we?” you interrupted him. “Do we even know what we are?”

Bucky shook his head. “We need to talk about it.”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said, leading him over to sit on your bed with you. “So,” you began, “what are we?”

The soldier took your hand in his and placed it on your thigh. “I know I want to be more than friends with you,” he said. “I don’t want a no-strings-attached deal.”

“You want strings,” you concluded.

“I want strings,” he nodded. “I want to hold you in my arms, fall asleep with you at night, make love to you whenever I can, be there for you, and help you raise this baby.” His hand found its way to your belly. “I want you.”

“I want you too,” you smiled. “In every way possible.”

Bucky let out a nervous breath. “So, let me ask you this,” he began, holding both of your hands, “will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckled and nodded. “As long as you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“So, we’re official?” he asked with happiness.

You nodded with happy tears. “Yeah,” you confirmed. “We’re official.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, he pulled you close, planting a deep and passionate kiss on your lips before laying you down on your back and taking his time to undress you.

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iamnot-crazy · 1 month

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Pages of Promise, We'll meet again

Chapter 1

Summary: You have always itched for adventure and when an interesting vessel appears you take your chance and jump aboard. Now the Straw hat pirates present an offer you can't refuse but before you take them up on it you first need to speak to your grumpy captain.

Trafalgar Law x reader

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Law's initial assumption was that your boundless energy and lack of boundaries would be a constant annoyance, but since you have been aboard he learned how wrong his assumption was. Yes, you were a handful with your knack for finding trouble, and extricating you often became Law's personal headache. But he'd come to appreciate that side of you too. When you weren't excitedly soaking up new information or peppering the crew with questions for your ever-growing log, you were a surprisingly calm person.

For a good part of each day, you'd disappear, engrossed in recording the Heart Pirates' adventures. Your passion seeped through the pages of your beautifully illustrated log, showcasing your love and thoughtfulness for the crew.

It wasn't until he saw you gazing at the Straw Hat captain with the same unwavering determination you'd had when you first boarded the Polar Tang that Law realized what he'd taken for granted.

The Straw Hats each have their own fascinating stories and ambitious dreams and you listen in awe. You scribbled furiously in your smaller travel notebook, capturing their every word so you could later transfer it to your larger masterpiece. Your pen barely kept pace with the torrent of tales they poured out.

Law's frown deepened as your eyes glowed with a familiar spark. Sure he didn't want you on his crew at first but he'd grown attached to you, and so had the rest of the crew. From your cheerful good mornings, while whipping up breakfast to your one-on-one sessions with each crew member to write their stories, you have become an indispensable part of their lives.

But what Law appreciated most was your silent companionship. He'd often find you tucked away in a quiet corner, diligently writing and sketching while he read a medical book, the rhythmic sounds of the waves serving as a lullaby.

His heart tightened when the Straw Hat captain finally reached his boiling point. He bounded over to you, his declaration echoing across the decks, "Y/N! We go on crazy adventures every day and someday I'll be King of the Pirates! If you want to write about a legendary crew, you should join ours!"

Law's gaze darted between you and the captain, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword hilt.

Luffy grabbed your shoulders in a playful chokehold. "Every legend needs a chronicler! What do you say, Torao?! Can Y/N join my crew?!"

All eyes turned to Law, the air thick with anticipation. The smile that had bloomed on your face faltered. You'd been so caught up in the Straw Hats' infectious energy that you'd completely forgotten about your crew.

His jaw clenched, and his grip on his sword tightened further. "I don't control them,"

Luffy jumped up in excitement grabbing onto your shoulders and cheering for his new crew members. The others also joined in celebration making you feel welcomed and warm compared to Law's cold glare. You pulled yourself out of the straw hat's grip and bowed your head, guilt gnawing at you. "I'm so sorry, Straw Hat-ya, but… would you allow me some time to think about this?"

Luffy's infectious grin faltered slightly, but he nodded. "Yeah, but don't keep me waiting too long!" He quickly bounced back to his usual cheer, rejoining the festivities.

You felt a pang of longing as you turned away from the vibrant scene, seeking solace with your captain. Sitting awkwardly next to him, you struggled to find the words. Law finally sighed, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. "You should join them," he muttered, surprising you.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "But what about the Heart Pirates?"

Law pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I already reached my goal. Doflamingo was defeated. I don't know what the world has in store for us next, but I do know whatever the Straw Hats' will be doing, it will be far more interesting. Your dream is to write about the new era, and I played my part. The Straw Hat captain… he isn't done."

You were frozen, your mind racing. "But Captain…"

Law stood up, cutting you off. "Just go join them." He turned away, his voice thick with emotion. He stormed away to the Polar Tang slamming the hatch shut behind him.

Just as Law disappeared in the tang a whistle pierced the air. Turning, you saw Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo approaching, their faces etched with concern.

"He seems mad," Shachi commented, plopping down on a nearby crate.

"You aren't really going to join the Straw Hats, are you?" Bepo asked, his voice trembling.

You shook your head placing it in your hand "I don't know."

Penguin shrugged. "Maybe you should join them. You're almost finished with your book on us, and the Straw Hats are going to need someone like you to tell their stories."

Bepo scowled. "But she's a part of our crew!"

Penguin sighed. "Look, Bepo, she has a dream too. Documenting the new era, the Straw Hats are definitely going to be leaders in that. It doesn't mean she doesn't care about us."

"But what about our Captain? Or do you not think he can become King of the Pirates?" Shachi interjected, glaring at Penguin.

Penguin flinched. "No, it's just… you saw them. Besides, Captain said it himself."

"But Y/N joined our crew first, doesn't that count for something?" Bepo whined.

"I just mean Y/N has served her purpose with our crew joining the straw hats would be the best for her." Penguin countered, his voice firm.

The conversation devolved into a heated debate, leaving you feeling even more overwhelmed. You excused yourself and retreated to your favorite porthole, the one offering the best view of the open sea. As you approached you found another figure leaning against your window staring off at the sea.

You smirked slowing your approach and dancing toward your grumpy captain "Anything interesting out there?" You sang leaning into his view.

Law jumped at your appearance but relaxed when he realized it was you and leaned his back onto the wall. "Nothing new." He sighed rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm sorry for being brash earlier."

You crossed your arms and smirked playfully, "You were?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "But I was being sincere earlier. I think you should join the Straw Hats. But…"

"But?" you urged, your heart pounding.

He looked away, his voice quieter. "But we'll miss you."

A warm smile spread across your face. "Awe, did I finally grow on you, grumpy Captain?"

He scoffed playfully turning to his side and looking back out the porthole, "You did a while ago." He admitted.

His comment took you off guard, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Law sighed, "You might have been a little much at first but I have grown to enjoy your presence and passion."

You tilted your head, studying him curiously. "Enjoy?" Your tone was laced with surprise, "The entire time I have been aboard you have been so pouty."

He scoffed, "I have not been pouty." You gave him a knowing look causing him to roll his eyes, "Fine I might have been a little pouty but that's just because I didn't know how to feel about you."

"Feel about me? Captain, do you like me?" You playfully teased.

Law's cheeks turned a faint pink. "Forget I said anything!" He pushed himself away from the wall and started to walk off.

"Wait!" you called out, reaching out to grab his arm. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to tease. Please."

He turned back, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes softened, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a vulnerability you hadn't noticed before.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and husky. "When you first boarded the ship, you were full of this chaotic energy, but there was another side to you that I learned to appreciate. You care so much about the crew and documenting every adventure." He reached the wall again and sat down, "The first time I saw you here, drawing and writing your stories…"

"Our stories," You interrupted with a chuckle, joining him on the wall.

Law smiled faintly. "Yes, our stories. I didn't think you had it in you to be so focused. It was… nice to hear your pen scratching against your sketchbook as I read my medical books. I think that's when I started having conflicting feelings for you."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. You hadn't expected such a confession. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Law shrugged, a hint of frustration in his voice. "It's not like I could act on it. I'm your captain and there was so much that needed to be done. And if you don't feel the same it would backfire more on me."

Hesitantly, you admitted, "I would be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way. I never imagined you could feel the same." You pause looking softly at him, "So what now?"

Law sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Now you join the Straw Hats and complete your dream. Then, hopefully, one day our paths will cross again."

The thought of leaving Law and the Heart Pirates ached, but you understood his reasoning. "But what if I don't want to join the Straw Hats?"

Law raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I saw how you were looking at them, how you blended in with them."

You bit your lip. "They're constantly getting into trouble, and I don't think I'm strong enough for that."

"They'll protect you," Law reassured you.

"Just like you have?" you asked.

"No." Law averted his gaze, a wry smile playing on his lips. "With me, it was different. I pulled you out of trouble. With them, it'll be different. They'll pull you into trouble, they'll challenge you, push you to your limits, but they'll also have your back."

"But I like things the way they are here. With you," you confessed, a pout forming on your lips.

Law grabbed your chin pulling you to look at him before he pulled you into a kiss. You were taken by surprise at first but his soft lip calmed your nerves as he deepened the kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of sadness and determination. "Y/N," he said in a voice rough with emotion, "go chase your dream, and when you do, we'll meet again."

He stood up abruptly and disappeared down the hall, leaving you staring after him in a daze.

Taking a deep breath, you knew what you had to do. You grabbed your bag and made your way to the library. There, in the quiet solitude, you began writing the final chapter of your time with the Heart Pirates.

With a heavy heart but a burning determination, you finished the entry, pouring your love and gratitude for your experience onto the pages. Closing the book, you turned to the empty one – the one that would chronicle the adventures of the Straw Hat Pirates. You place the new empty book into your bag leaving the completed version of the Heart Pirates book on the table for everyone on the crew to read.

With your bag full and a new empty book, you walked out of the polar tang. Outside the party, the two ships have started to die down and many lay asleep on the ground. Your eyes darted across the dock for your captain but he was nowhere in sight, before you could turn around in search of him you felt a rubbery hand wrap around your waist.

"Y/N! I see your bags are packed! Did you make a decision?" A bubby captain pulled you off the deck of the Tang and onto the deck of the Sunny.

Your feet wobble as you try to brace your new bearings. You scratch your head, "Yeah I think I did but I was hoping I could say goodbye to Law first."

"No need." Robin appeared at your side, holding a folded piece of paper. "He stopped by earlier and left you a note."

You took the paper, your heart pounding. Written on the paper in handwriting that could only be written by a doctor said, "We'll meet again."

"Hey, we should probably get going soon if we want to make it to the next island by tomorrow!" Nami shouted from above you cutting off your thoughts.

"Alright then, let's set sail!" Luffy declared, his voice brimming with infectious energy.

And with that, the Sunny pulled away from the dock and the Heart Pirates, charting a course towards a new adventure. You stood at the railing, the wind whipping through your hair, your notebook clutched tightly in your hands. The future stretched before you, an open book waiting to be filled with the stories of the Straw Hat Pirates, and perhaps, someday, a reunion with a certain grumpy doctor. A smile bloomed on your face – the adventure had just begun.

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A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #writing #fem!reader #straw hat pirates #the heart pirates #one piece luffy #law one piece #one piece trafalgar law #monkey d luffy

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